


Dating the Long Way Around

by scifigrl47



Series: In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury) [4]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Author has mental issues, Dating, Domestic, Humor, M/M, Plot sneaks in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 66,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifigrl47/pseuds/scifigrl47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark was pretty sure the Universe had it out for him.  Call it karma, or the natural balance, but on occasion, he had a sneaking suspicion that for every good thing that happened to him, something bad was waiting around the corner.</p><p>That being the case, his first real date with Steve Rogers would probably lead to something disastrous.  But in that he was, in fact, going on his first real date with Steve, he wasn't sure he cared.  Steve was certain he didn't.</p><p>It's a Thursday night in New York City, what can possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Dating the Long Way Around 漫长的约会](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031026) by [gegemoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gegemoon/pseuds/gegemoon)



“So.”

“So? Chin up. You missed a spot shaving, how do you even do that?”

“How did my life reach this point?” Tony Stark asked no one in particular. The only other person in the room was scowling at his jaw like it had talked bad about her mother and Jarvis knew better than to answer rhetorical questions. “How did I get here?”

“Poor choices and too much drinking,” Pepper Potts told him. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around, giving him a firm shove towards the bathroom. “Fix your face.”

“It's like twenty years and a couple of hard parties too late for that,” Tony pointed out, but he went, because she had that look on her face, the one that said that she was not amused and not in the mood for his nonsense, and there was a lot of things that Pepper qualified as nonsense when it came to Tony Stark. Morose, he headed for the bathroom. “My life is a disaster,” he told her as he went.

“You should be used to that by now,” she pointed out. “Which watch?”

“Pepper, I have bigger damn problems than the watch. I need you to focus here.” He studied his reflection in the mirror. Same as always, nothing to write home about, but he was doing okay for himself. He tipped his chin up, looking for the non-existent spot he'd missed. His eyes narrowed, he reached for his razor. Okay, maybe he'd missed a spot. He had other things on his mind, dammit.

“Tony, I am focused. There is a laserlike level of focus happening here, because the only way you're going to make it downstairs and not be late, as in humiliatingly late, is if I focus. Because you've never met a schedule that you couldn't destroy with a casual look and a martini.” She appeared behind him in the bathroom door, holding the wooden box of his watches. “Which. Watch.”

“For God's sake, just pick one!” He squinted at his chin, leaning forward to double check everything. “It is not anything I'm concerned about.”

“You should be. Come on, we're running behind.” She selected a watch from the display and set the box aside. “Wrist.” She caught his arm with one delicate, cool hand, and slipped the watch over his fingers.

“I can put on a watch,” Tony said, but he didn't look away from his reflection. “I can do that.”

“You can, but you're not going to,” Pepper pointed out, securing it in place. “Because you're having some sort of breakdown over there, I don't claim to understand it, but I've learned to respect it.” She took the razor out of his other hand and put it aside. “Look at me.” When he didn't move, she took his shoulders in hand and turned him around so she could run a quick, raking glance over his form. A smile curled her lips, warm and affectionate and real. “You look great. Perfect.” 

“How did I get to this point in my life, Pepper?” Tony asked.

“Hard work and hard living,” she said, as she reached up to stroke a wayward strand of hair back where it belonged. “Try not to panic.”

“I'm not- I'm not PANICKING,” Tony snapped, recoiling from her fingers, and she followed him, adjusting his collar and smoothing his tie. “That is just a gross exaggeration of the situation, Pepper, that is slander and malice and a horrible thing to say to me, panicking, who's panicking?”

“You are. Visibly.” Pepper heaved a faint sigh, her shoulders rising and falling beneath the fabric of her tailored cream suit. “I need you to not do that. This is a delicate negotiation, but nothing that you can't do. We all know that.” Her fingers caught his chin, tipping his face back towards her when he tried to glance away. “Tony. You can do this.”

He let his eyes shut; sucking in a long, slow breath, he nodded. “Yeah. Got it.” 

He heard her faint laugh, light and easy, and he opened his eyes to glare at her. She was shaking her head, smiling at him, smiling with him. “It's just dinner,” she said, and her gaze was warm and sympathetic. “It's just a date.”

“Pepper. I am standing here in my best suit,” Tony said to her, “which my ex-girlfriend dressed me in, some parts of it, quite literally, why are you here, by the way? Why are you-” She smoothed his hair down behind his ear, and he rolled his eyes. “Stop it.”

“First of all,” she said with a saccharine smile, “ex-girlfriend and current CEO, can we focus on the current? CEO of StarkIndustries, that is who just shoved your arms into a jacket, and I did it because if we left it up to you, you would still be wearing ratty jeans with a hole in the left knee and a t-shirt from a band that broke up a decade ago.”

“It's a classic,” Tony said, and that hurt, he wasn't sure why, but that hurt. “And I-”

“Shoes,” she said, stabbing a finger towards his feet, and he heaved a sigh. “I am serious, Tony, you are not going to sabotage this by acting like an ass.”

“Kind of am, Pepper, that's my default state, that is who I am, so basically, when you say to me, 'This time, Tony, this one time, can you not be an ass?' the answer is no, because that is who I am, I am a giant jackass, and the chances of me hiding that for long enough to enter into anything resembling a relationship is pretty much non-existent. So when you say, don't be an ass?” He threw his hands up. “The answer is, I would if I had any idea how to accomplish that!”

Pepper stared at him, her head angled forward, a smile on her lips. “Well, then,” she said at last, and her voice was warm and laughing. “It's a good thing that your date's been living with you for months and is more than used to it.”

He paused, considered. “He is, isn't he?”

“Yes, he is.” Pepper adjusted his tie again. Tony let her. It was kind of nice, being fussed over.

“Why am I doing this, then?” he asked.

“Because it's none of my business, and it's not anything I'd presume to ask, but I'm guessing this is Steve's first date. You. You are his first date.” She leaned in, eyes narrowed on his. “He's chosen you, and trust me, Mr. Stark, Steve Rogers could pretty much get a 'yes' out of anyone, male or female, in this country, but he's chosen you. So the least you can do is put on a nice outfit, and shave properly, and take him to a nice restaurant, and put on some DAMN SHOES.”

“I'm hearing a tone here, a certain disapproval-”

“I will throw them at your head in about thirty seconds,” Pepper told him. With one hand, she spun him around and smacked him on the ass for good measure. “March.”

Tony marched. “Why are you so crazy?” he asked her. “I pay for perfectly good psychiatric health care, Pepper, I have an excellent benefits plan.”

“No, StarkIndustries has an excellent benefits plan,” Pepper said, heading for the sitting room. Her hips swayed, the long heels of her shoes sinking into the plush carpet with each step. “You, as it turns out, are not beneficial whatsoever.”

“I've been trying to say that, Pepper, and you've paid no attention to me. That being the case, why are you so eager to send me to dinner with Captain America?”

“Because you really want to have dinner with Captain America,” Pepper pointed out. She picked up her tablet and flicked through the data on the screen. “And you're going to be late if you don't get your shoes on, Tony.”

“I don't want to go to dinner with Captain America,” Tony groused. He took a seat and started shoving his feet into expensive dress shoes. “I want to sit on the couch with Steve and eat leftover pizza and make fun of an infomercial and maybe Clint, so what am I doing going to dinner in this?” 

“Because you look good in that, and Steve deserves an actual date, and you are going to act like a goddamn adult and just calm down.”

“I am perfectly calm, why are you-”

Pepper snagged his tie and jerked him forward, pulling Tony down until they were face to face. “You will calm down,” she said, her voice calm and precise. “And you will do it right now, Anthony Stark. That man has been put through absolute hell-”

“I got kidnapped,” Tony said, “did you think that was a fun time for me? I mean, really? I was kidnapped by Hydra and aliens and that is something that not many people get to say, so can we just-”

She leaned forward, until they were almost nose to nose. “We thought you were dead,” she said, her voice calm and steady. Tony fell silent. “He thought you were dead.” Her eyes were bright and shining. “He thought you were dead, and he had no choice but to keep going.”

“Not my fault you all write me off so easily,” Tony mumbled, and Pepper let go of his tie with a sigh.

“You scared us,” she said, smoothing her palms against his cheeks. “But you scared him most of all, because he's lost so much, and so many.” She smiled. “I didn't even bother crying this time,” she said, her tone arch. “I know better. You have to be gone at LEAST two months before I'll shed a tear on your behalf, Mr. Stark.”

“Good for you, Ms. Potts, at least you have sense.” He leaned forward, just a bit, and rested his forehead against hers. “Pepper? Why am I doing this?”

“I'd say it's because after all the trouble you've caused the man, you owe him at the very least a meal, but-” She heaved a faint sigh. “It's because no matter what you try to say right now, Tony? You want this date more than just about anything else in your life.”

Tony took a deep breath. “I'm going to fuck this up,” he said, his eyes closed tight. She was familiar, the light scent of her perfume, the delicate touch of her fingers, the heat of her palms against his skin. Everything about this was familiar. Because that was another thing he'd fucked up. He reached up, covering her hands with his, holding onto the touch for another second.

“Maybe,” she said, because she was a practical woman, not given to false promises. “But you're stubborn when it's inconvenient, and Steve is steadfast in everything he does.” She bumped her forehead against his, waiting for him to open his eyes and see her smile before she continued. “So I give you pretty good odds.”

“This is a horrible idea,” Tony said, and she laughed.

“Put on your damn shoes, you faker,” she said, pulling away. “You've got a date with Captain America.”

Tony groaned. “Can we not focus on that? Because, really, that is just- I cannot handle that particular line of thought,” he snapped, reaching for his shoes. “Let's not bring that up, I am dating Steve, he's leaving the uniform at home.”

Of course, now that she'd planted the damn thought in his head, he couldn't think of anything else, couldn't shake the memory of just how good the kiss he'd shared with Steve had been, still in full uniform, the slick press of the leather sliding over the Iron Man armor, his hands and his body and Tony had lost his damn mind. He'd slept with god only knows how many people, and one kiss from Steve Rogers and he was like a kid with his first crush all over again.

In his defense, Steve could kiss. Really. The man had a natural talent.

The first one had been amazing. Despite the blood loss. The second one had been better. Despite happening in SHIELD medical. 

“This is the stupidest thing I've ever done,” Tony said, trying to focus on his shoes. It wasn't working. He didn't need that much brain power to tie the laces, and there was plenty left over to cheerfully go over every single kiss they'd shared since then. Steve, as it turned out, really liked to kiss.

Tony wasn't complaining.

“Tony, you've had stupider ideas before breakfast,” Pepper said. “We're falling behind. Let's go.”

*

“I am a dork.”

“Yes,” Natasha said, without so much as a blink, “you are. Don't worry, it works well for you.” She turned him away from the mirror. “Come here. I need to tie your tie.”

Steve tilted his head back to the mirror, and she set a gentle finger against his chin and pulled him away. “You look amazing,” she said with a faint smile. She was polite enough to ignore the way his cheeks flushed at that, Steve always appreciated that. “Lean over, Cap.”

“He only agreed to this out of pity,” Steve said, as she looped the silk around his neck.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Steve, you? In this suit? This evokes a lot of base emotions. Pity is not one of them.” She knotted the tie with a flick of her fingers. Glancing up, she sighed. “Put the puppy dog eyes away. He is an idiot when it comes to you.” She slipped the knot up against his throat, the movement quick and practiced. “He adores you, Steve.”

“That doesn't mean he wants to date me,” Steve said as Natasha adjusted his jacket. “I can't even dress myself, that's a wonderful start to this-” He swallowed the word 'relationship,' because he was pushing his luck already, he knew it, and he didn't much care. God, it was absolutely pathetic how much he wanted this. “A wonderful start to this date.”

She smiled, her eyebrows arching. “Baby, you can dress yourself, I can just do it better.” She tipped her head back, her eyes narrowing in consideration. “Darcy,” she called, never taking her eyes off of Steve's face, “did the flowers arrive?”

“Yep.” Darcy peeked around the door frame. Her wide mouth turned up in a gleeful grin, and Steve couldn't help but smile back. “Oh, my God,” she said, her eyes dancing. “You are adorable.”

“Gorgeous,” Natasha corrected, taking a small step back. Her head tipped to the side, considering. “You look gorgeous.”

Steve knew he was blushing, and he didn't care. “Really?” he asked, shifting his weight. He glanced from one woman to the other, and Darcy gave him a thumbs up and a reassuring smile. Steve glanced at himself in the mirror, and reached up to tug on his jacket. Natasha caught his wrists with gentle fingers, pulling them away from the fabric. “I look all right?”

“He really has no idea what he looks like, does he?” Darcy asked Natasha. Natasha gave her a look and a smile, and Darcy laughed. “You're totally hot,” she told Steve. “Take my word on this. I know these things. I am a fantastic judge of these things, I know my hot men. You? You're hot. Tony's head is going to explode, don't even worry about it.”

“Flowers?” Natasha prompted, her lips twitching.

“Oh, right!” Darcy bounced back out the door, disappearing with a flounce of dark hair.

Natasha caught Steve's shoulders and turned him back towards the mirror. “You look great,” she said, smoothing a hand over his shoulders. “That is for you. Tony is your best friend, and he doesn't give a damn what you're wearing.” She grinned around his shoulder, sly and sleek and sharp as a blade. “But just so you know? He's going to take one look at you and start whimpering.”

Steve ducked his head, embarrassed. “Thanks, Tasha,” he said, feeling shy and awkward and pretty much an idiot. He sucked in a deep breath. “I appreciate your help. The suit-” He glanced down. “Thanks.”

She went on tiptoe to brush her lips against his cheek. “We had Coulson's input on that, but it is a good choice, isn't it? I'm glad I could help.” The suit was closer in style to the ones he'd known in the late thirties and early forties than ones of the modern day, and that was nice, too. Where Coulson had found one, let alone one that could be altered to fit Steve, he didn't know, but he was grateful for it. 

He felt a little... Less out of place in it.

Steve glanced at himself in the mirror. “Tasha?”

“Mmm?” She was going over a tablet, her fingers dancing over the surface. “Pepper says that Tony's almost ready.”

“Tasha? I don't know what I'm doing.”

She glanced up, a faint smile on her face. “No one does, Cap. No one.” He managed a faint smile, but it was tight at the edges, and her smile faded. Her voice delicate, she said, “Steve. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Understand?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Yes, I do understand what you're saying, but-” He sighed. “I have no experience in this, none, and Tony is Tony, and he's going to expect me to know what I'm doing, isn't he?”

“No,” Natasha said, flatly. “Steve, he's not going to pressure you into anything. He likes you too much for that, and-”

Darcy poked her head around the door frame. “Look, Cap? You don't have to put out on the first date,” she said, her voice blunt. “It doesn't matter how much you like him, or how much you want him to like you, if you're not comfortable with whatever he wants, or is trying, you can say no. Say no, and make it stick. And if he pushes it, he's a dick, so get out of there.” She gave a sharp nod, as if that was that. “Not that Tony would.”

“Thank you, Darcy baby,” Natasha said, a smile playing around her mouth. “That was, for the most part, what I was trying to say. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with,” she told Steve.

“Just because he buys dinner, that does not mean you have to put out,” Darcy agreed. 

“What if I want to?” Steve asked, because, what the heck, he needed any advice that he could get at this point, and there was no physical way he could get any more embarrassed.

“Enjoy yourself, be safe, be clear about your boundaries and limits, and I've got, like, five years worth of back issues of Cosmo, if you want sex advice, lousy, confusing but hysterically funny sex advice, man, have we got you covered,” she said, grinning. “Seriously. Covered.”

“I'm not sure if Cosmo's really what he needs,” Natasha said.

“I'll call Drew, I'm sure he's got something more guy oriented, and he won't even QUESTION it if I ask him for blowjob advice,” Darcy told her.

So, as it turns out, it was possible to be more embarrassed, and he was accomplishing it. Not one to back away from a fight, Steve gritted his teeth and squared his shoulders. “How do I get him to, you know, uh, put out?” he asked, drawing their attention.

“Blowjobs,” Darcy said, waving an idle hand. “Seriously, Steve. All of your questions will be answered with hot and-”

Natasha covered her mouth with a hand. “Thank you, Darcy,” she said. “Steve, you do what makes you happy, and Tony will be happy. Tell him what you want, and he'll-” She paused. “I really dislike the concept of a sure thing, but yes. Tony Stark is pretty much a sure thing for you. Just tell him what you want.”

“There is no way I can do that,” he said, clutching his face with one hand. “I just, I can't.”

“Then kiss him and start taking off your clothes,” Natasha said. “Yours. Your own. No one misinterprets that. Even Tony can't possibly miss that.”

“What if he says no?” Steve gritted out. “What if he says no, and I'm standing there half naked and he says no?” He resisted the urge to just crawl back into bed and pull the covers over his head. Why was this so difficult? What was it about him that made everything so hard? How could he make such a mess of everything without even trying?

“He's not going to say no,” Darcy said, pulling Natasha's hand away from her mouth.

“What if he does?”

“Then he is a pod person or a skrull or something, knock him out fast,” Darcy said, and that startled a chuckle out of him. She gave him a smile. “Seriously? Just kiss him. See where things go from there. You'll be fine. Everyone's kind of freaked out the first time.”

“Sex shouldn't be this hard,” he mumbled.

Darcy reached out, adjusted his jacket. “Not sex, goober. Going out with someone you really, really like. Someone that, you know,” she said, glancing up. “That you could love. Everyone gets scared.” She dipped her head forward, looking at him from under the sweep of her dark lashes. “Do you need a hug?”

“Yes,” he said, and she giggled.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tight. “You're going to be fine,” she said. “Kiss him. And if that doesn't work, I'll do my best PA impression, get you put on his calendar. Scheduled in. Ten PM, Friday, Steve/intense pleasure, it's all right there on his schedule, he'll-”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Not subtle, kitten. And I don't think that's necessary,” she said to Darcy, but there was warmth and laughter in her voice.

“I'm all right with this plan,” Steve told her.

“No, Cap. Go get your man on your own, not because Darcy likes to rearrange the lives of those nearest and dearest her heart,” Natasha said. The tablet beeped, and she glanced at it. “That's our cue. Let's go. Flowers, Darcy. Cap, take a couple of deep breaths, calm down, and be ready to move in three minutes.”

“You can do it, Captain Adorkable!” Darcy called, as Natasha shooed her out of the room.

Steve took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders, brought his chin up. He could do this.

*

Tony paused at the top of the staircase, somehow not surprised to find his entire goddamn team sitting in the living room in various states of pretending not to care about this. Most of them were not doing a good job with pretending. At all.

He wasted a couple of seconds, considering if he wanted to curse them all out, because Clint was smirking and Bruce was grinning over the tops of his glasses, and Thor looked ready to recite some epic poetry or shit, Jane perched on his knee where he could hug her around the waist. Coulson was staring down at a file in a way that made it clear that he did not give a good goddamn about the contents. And the expressions on the faces of the women were just, he was never going to live this down. For an instant he paused, one hand on the banister, and Darcy honest to God took his picture.

“What the hell, Lewis?” he asked, and Steve, who'd been facing the windows, turned around. And Tony forgot the rest of them were there, because Steve was grinning up at him, wide and happy and real, his eyes bright and his cheeks creased with the force of it.

It was possible that his heart skipped a beat, or maybe the damn arc reactor wasn't seated properly. He gave it a smack with the palm of one hand, just to be sure.

“Looking good, Stark,” Clint said from his perch on the arm of the couch. Natasha, who was standing next to him, put a hand on his chest and gave him a shove, knocking him back without much effort. He toppled back onto the couch, legs windmilling as he crashed into Coulson's lap. Coulson raised his arms out of the way so that Clint wouldn't knock his work out of his hands. Other than that, he didn't so much as bat an eye at acquiring a lapful of Clint.

“Screw you, too, Barton,” Tony said, sticking his hands in his pockets as he wandered down the stairs. “What're you all doing here, anyway, don't you have anything better to do? I mean, really? Whole tower, whole city, you have to be sitting here? Get a life.”

“I think you're asking too much for us to ignore this,” Natasha told him, arms crossed over her chest. Behind her back, safely protected from Tony's wrath, Darcy took another picture.

“Aye, and no other had plans,” Thor said. “Thursday night, we had expected to spend the night as always, watching an epic tale of heroism and love with our friends and kin.”

“I did my best,” Clint said, not bothering to sit up. His legs were draped inelegantly over the arm of the couch, but his head was on Coulson's thigh. “I said Wednesday. We were doing Wednesday, reservations and everything. Then we had to fucking deal with reduced gravity in the financial district on Wednesday.” He waved a hand in midair. “Floating stockbrokers everywhere, let's never do that again. God, I could not believe the WHINING. It was like they've never had gravity fail on them before.”

Thor was pouting, even with Jane in his lap, because Thor really did love movie night. “Aye,” he admitted. “That was a sight I had not expected. But still...” He sighed, and Jane patted him lightly on the cheek, an amused smile on her face. “The day being as it is, no other of us had plans, thus you should have expected our presence.”

“Is that a polite and overly roundabout way of saying 'don't plan dates for Thursdays?'” Tony asked. “Because I don't need this nonsense.” He reached the bottom of the stairs, and stared down at the paper wrapped bundle in Steve's hands. He arched an eyebrow, trying to be cynical about this, and failing miserably. “Did you get me flowers?”

Steve glanced down, then back up, his golden eyebrows arched over guileless eyes. “It would appear so,” he said, grinning. He offered them to Tony, who considered, just for a second, smacking them to the ground and running.

Instead, he reached for them, a bundle of perfect red and yellow roses, the edges of the petals brushed with fine gold powder. He took a deep breath, and the smile died on Steve's face. He reached out, covering Tony's hand with his. The paper around the roses crinkled under their fingers, and Tony glanced up at him. “You don't have to do this,” Steve said, his voice pitched low, almost gentle. “If you've changed your mind, Tony, you don't have to do this. I understand.” His shoulder rose in a half shrug. “I'd be disappointed, but I'd understand.”

Tony rolled his eyes, trying not to think how good it felt, the grip of Steve's fingers against his. “I have reservations, Rogers. Wearing a suit. I'm even presentable. What more do you want?”

Steve leaned in. “A smile. A real one. Or at the very least, stop it with the fake ones.” His fingers brushed Tony's jaw. “If this isn't what you want-”

Tony shifted the roses to one hand and snagged the front of Steve's jacket with the other. With a quick yank, he pulled Steve in, and caught his mouth in a kiss. Steve froze for a second, and then, just like that, his lips relaxed against Tony's, and Tony could feel him smile. It was remarkably sweet.

Someone snickered, and Tony resisted the urge to flip the offender off. It was Clint, he knew it was Clint, so that was fine. But just as he was working up the intent, Steve's lips parted on his, and Tony decided he had better things to do. 

The flash of a camera brought him out of his hormone induced fog. “I will kill you all,” he snarled, and Steve's head fell against his shoulder, his laughter warm and rich and real, his big hands on the flat of Tony's back, holdig him close. 

“Can't help it,” Clint sing-songed. “You're just so adorable.”

“I will set fire to your bows and roll your arm guards in industrial strength itching powder,” Tony said.

“Who makes industrial strength itching powder?” Bruce asked, his lips twitching 

“Good question. I'm just going to need to borrow your lab for a few minutes,” Tony said to him.

“No, oh, no, no, no, no,” Bruce said, holding up both hands. “No. Do not involve me in this. I do not want to be-”

“He's on my side,” Clint said, smirking.

“I am not-” Bruce stabbed a finger in his direction, but his lips were twitching. “No.”

“I will take you down, Barton,” Tony started, and Steve caught his elbow. 

“Can we schedule inter-team squabbling for a later time?” he said, and there was nothing but humor in his voice, in his face. In his eyes. “Because I have other plans tonight, and I'd rather hoped that you'd be joining me.” His smile stretched, warm and sweet.

Tony stared at that face and realized he was screwed. He was completely and royally fucked. It was bad enough when they were just teammates, just friends, hell, it had been bad enough when they'd been polite enemies. But dating Steve Rogers was going to be his undoing.

He was pretty sure he didn't care. Not when Steve was smiling at him, his eyes lit as if he was just glad to see Tony, as if Tony was exactly who he wanted to be with, right at that moment, as if Tony was the only person he wanted to be with.

“Unless you'd like to stay here and spend the night bickering with Clint,” Steve continued. “It's not what I'd like to be doing, but if you want to do the same thing tonight as you've done for the last six nights in a row-”

“Okay, fine, yes,” Tony said as Clint smirked and everyone else pretended not to be smirking. They were lousy at pretending, but Tony and his dignity did appreciate the pretense. “Dinner.”

“That'd be real nice,” Steve agreed.

“Man up, Stark,” Natasha said, and she collected the roses from his hand as she walked across the room to join Pepper at the bar. Pepper had a faint half-smile on her face, but she held up a hand, and Natasha gave her a high five. “You have reservations, and you were on time for once in your life, it would be a shame to ruin that, since it happens so seldom.”

“You were my PA for like, a week, what do you know?” Tony said.

“We go drinking,” Darcy said, bouncing over to the bar. She found a vase for the roses and filled it at the bar's sink. “Like, the ladies bitch night. We talk about things.”

“What kind of things?” Tony asked, suspicious.

“Mostly you,” Darcy said, smirking at him. She handed Natasha the vase and began filling glasses with liquor, using a liberal hand with Tony's expensive booze.

“That's not true,” Pepper said. “Only about fifty percent of our discussions are about you. Sixty percent, max.” She gave Tony a faint smile, but her eyes were overly bright.

“Don't start,” he told her, pointing a finger in her direction. “Don't. We've been through this, I know what I'm doing, do not even start with me.”

She held up a hand, stopping him. “Go,” she said. “Reservations.”

“I know, God, anyone else want to remind me?”

“No, but which car are you taking?” Clint asked, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Well, I was thinking, I'm probably going to go with, one of mine,” Tony said. “And they're all mine, so I've got a wide variety to choose from. Why?”

“What if it's the one I want to use?”

“Are you kidding me? Really? Please be kidding me right now,” Tony said.

“Are you planning on going out tonight?” Steve asked, and he was honestly curious. He was worried about this. Tony gave him a disbelieving look.

“No,” Tony said, firmly. “I don't care if he plans on going out, there's like twenty cars he can use, he can use one that I haven't picked.”

“Not tonight,” Clint said to Steve, ignoring Tony entirely. “But first thing tomorrow, I wanted-”

“Tomorrow is tomorrow, and we'll be back long before then,” Tony said, and he refused to think about what would be happening after this date was over, because in that direction lay insanity. He took Steve by the arm and started for the elevator, pulling Steve along in his wake. “Do not, I repeat, do not burn my tower down while I'm not here.”

“We'll wait for you to get back to do that,” Bruce said, and Tony gave up. 

“Banner is snarking at me,” he said to Steve as they waited for the elevator to arrive. “Banner. I thought he was-” He leaned back. “You are supposed to be on my side. This is the rules, this is pretty clear, you and me, we are on the same side.”

“You're talking about using my lab for evil,” Bruce said, and he was hiding a smile, Tony knew he was hiding a smile, and that was good, that Bruce had shown up for this little round of 'torment the teammates' and he was being snarky about it, and Tony grinned at him. Bruce pointed his pencil in Tony's direction. “No evil. Really. We've been through this.”

“Not fooling anyone, Banner. No one is fooled,” Tony told him. 

“Reservations,” Pepper said, and Bruce hid a chuckle behind one broad palm.

“Right,” Tony said, and he pointed at her. “My flowers. Don't be stealing my roses, Potts! No one has ever given me roses, and I can see the covetousness of your gaze. I see this.”

“Tony, after tonight, you owe me far more than a bunch of flowers,” Pepper said, bracing her chin on one fisted hand, one eyebrow arched. She held up her martini. “Go.”

“Going,” Steve said, as the elevator doors slid open. “Let's go, Tony.”

“Hey, Big Blue!” Behind the bar, Darcy took another picture before she gave Steve a thumbs up. “Remember what I told you.”

“Do not remember what she told you,” Natasha said.

“I don't think I could forget,” Steve said, and Tony was a little concerned by the flush across Steve's cheekbones, a little concerned and a little turned on.

Okay, a lot turned on. Steve, when he blushed, was obscenely good looking. Obscene because he made Tony want to do obscene things to him. Really, really hot, obscene things to him that would cause him to never speak to Tony again, so he should probably ignore those thoughts.

Like if Steve flushed like that in bed. And if so, just how far down that flush went.

Tony shook his head, hard, trying to get some blood back into it. Yeah. Those kind of thoughts. Those were the kind of thoughts he should not be having. He stepped into the elevator. “Don't break anything, Barton!” he yelled as Steve joined him, laughing as the doors slid shut.

“I think he flipped me off there,” Tony said to Steve, staring suspiciously at the doors of the elevator.

“He usually does.” Steve hit the button for the garage. “You two have the strangest friendship.”

“I prefer the term 'antagonistic comradeship,'” Tony said, tucking his hands into his pockets to keep them out of trouble and off of things he shouldn't be touching. Like Steve's belt.

Steve smiled at him, and took a deep breath. “I really want this,” he started. “I.. Really want this, Tony. But if you don't-”

Tony caught the back of his neck and dragged him in for a kiss. “Okay,” he said, when they finally broke apart, and Steve's breath was a little fast and a little heavy, and wasn't that nice? That he might just be as affected by this as Tony was? “Okay,” he repeated. “I'm starting to think that you're either a little slow, and we both know that you're not, or that you're making the connection between cause and effect, and you're doing this to get kissed.” He paused. “Are you? Doing this to get kissed?”

“Let's just say, I could use a little reassurance,” Steve said, and he tucked his hands in his pockets. His shoulders hunched forward, his head ducked down, and he stared at his feet. “I might need a lot of reassurance,” he muttered, the words almost inaudible.

Tony stared at him. “Cap? Steve?” He waited, as patiently as he was capable, for Steve to glance up, to meet his eyes, and Tony kissed him again, his hand cupping Steve's chin. “I really, really want to do this,” he said, and that felt awkward. But Steve was smiling at him, so maybe it was okay.

The doors opened, and he wondered how long he'd been standing there like an idiot. Pulling away, he headed out. “You have a preference for car?” he asked as he headed for the drop vault.

“Am I driving?” Steve asked, amusement humming in the words.

Tony gave him a look as he pressed his palm to the biometric sensors. “Steve, you drive like a ninety year old man with cataracts and a sacred obligation to the speed limit.”

“There's no reason to drive like a maniac,” Steve told him, but he was grinning.

“Yes, there is. Reservations. Didn't you hear every single person up in that tower?” Tony stood still for the scan and waited for Jarvis to open the safe. He grabbed the case. “Let's go.”

“Tony,” Steve said.

“I'm thinking the Rolls. No, maybe the Ferrari?” Tony considered the cars, looking for the balance between classy, flashy and not likely to attract the attention of the paparazzi. 

“Tony.”

“What the hell was Barton talking about?” he said, scowling. “What-” He narrowed his eyes. “Jarvis, which car does Barton take out most often?”

“The Aston-Martin Rapide,” Jarvis said.

“Tony, put that back.”

“What?” Tony snagged the keys. “Aston-Martin. One of the few cars I own with an actual backseat, I don't want to think about that. I swear I need to have everything he touches dry cleaned. Let's go-” The case was lifted out of his hand, and he spun around. “Hey, I-”

“You're not bringing the suitcase armor, Tony,” Steve said, returning to the safe. “Jarvis, put this away.”

“Look, I'll just throw it in the trunk.” Tony made a grab for it and Steve held it out of reach. “Steve. Cap. Just put it in the trunk.”

Steve caught him around the waist with his free hand. “Once,” he asked, his voice serious, verging on pleading, “just once, can we please just be Tony and Steve? For one night? Can I just be-” He looked down at the case, and he sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the force of it. His eyes flicked up, pure sky blue under lowered brows, to meet Tony's. “Can I please just be Steve?”

Tony's eyes flicked over his face, and heaved a sigh. “Lock it up,” he said, and it was worth it, it was worth it for the way that the grin bloomed on Steve's face, wide and bright. And something that looked almost grateful. He leaned in, brushing his lips against Tony's.

“Thank you.”

“This is on you, Rogers,” Tony said, pulling out of Steve's hands before he could do something that would get them both in trouble. Like start stripping. “The universe has it out for me. This is a proven fact. The universe wants me to suffer. I like to be prepared for the suffering, because it's going to happen, and-”

“Tony.” Steve was laughing as he put the case back and relocked the safe. “The universe doesn't have it out for you, you're being ridiculous again.”

“You've seen my file, you've heard my drunken ramblings, how do you even remotely think that's true, Steve? Really?”

“Tell you what.” Steve caught his hand, dragged him back in. “You really think the universe has it in for you?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “Obviously.”

Steve nodded, his expression grim. “In that case-” He snagged the keys from Tony's hand and backed up out of reach, fast. “I think I should drive.”

Tony gaped after him. “Did you just- Get back here, Rogers!” But he was laughing as he hustled after Steve, who held the keys over his head.

Maybe, just maybe, this was going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you have any idea how many traffic laws you just broke?" 

"Not off the top of my head," Tony said, grinning. He spun the keys around his fingertip. "Did you keep track? Was the total impressive?"

"I can't count that high," Steve said, trying his absolute best to sound stern and knowing that he was failing at it. "You are an absolute menace."

“I am, aren't I?” Tony set the car's alarm with a flick of his wrist, checking his watch as he did so. “Right on time. Quick walk to our destination, but we'll arrive right when they're expecting us.” The underground garage was a private one, as far as Steve understood it, attached to a company owned by an acquaintance of Tony's. At this time of night, there were only a handful of cars there, employees burning the late night oil to get a project done, or looking for a little recognition. Tony lead the way to the entrance marked 'To the Street.' “Really, it's not like my insurance premiums can get any higher, Steve.”

“How many speeding tickets have you gotten in the last year?” Steve asked, out of morbid curiosity.

“No more than I can afford to pay for,” Tony said, with a breezy smile. 

“That's not a real answer.”

“That's all that matters. As long as I can afford them, I don't see the problem,” Tony said. 

“Menace,” Steve told him, shaking his head. Tony was laughing, and that was nice, it was wonderful, all the stiffness and strain that had held him too taut back at the tower having bled away. It was usually like this, when the two of them were together. Steve wasn't sure why, he hadn't had many real friends through the years, and judging by Tony's relationship with Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy, the same might be said for him. But somehow, once they'd both gotten over the circumstances of their first meeting, there had been something natural about being friends with Tony Stark.

He didn't question it often. He figured he should be thankful for the small mercies he was granted.

And this, walking through the streets of New York City with Tony at his side, that seemed like a mercy he'd earned. Worked for.

When Tony slipped his hand into Steve's, he tried not to grin like an idiot. Judging by the look Tony gave him, he wasn't completely successful, but he wasn't sure he cared. Instead, he just moved closer, his arm against Tony's, as they walked in companionable silence. There were others out, but in this part of town, foot traffic was sparse, and cabs pulled to the curb, discharging passengers in a steady stream as they walked, unnoticed by the citizenry of New York.

“Here we are.” Tony's steps sped up, pulling away from Steve. He took the half dozen stairs up to the door at a jog, eagerness pulling him along, and for an instant, Steve slowed down, his feet coming to a stop. He glanced up at the door, marked only by a subtle sign and a brass number plate.

“This is the restaurant?” he asked, curious. He was expecting something... Flashier. For as often as this date had been delayed, due to disasters and SHIELD emergencies and Tony's health after his kidnapping, it was possible that Steve had built this up in his head to be something it wasn't. 

After all, the original plan had been Italian on a Wednesday night, with Clint as an escort. Whatever Tony had in mind, it was an improvement over that.

“Come on, Cap. Don't you trust me?” Tony leaned over the bannister, grinning down at him, and Steve's heart seemed to skip a beat. Tony's eyes were alight with humor, his face and his hands and the leashed grace of his body so familiar, and so right that Steve's hands twitched, wanting nothing more than to grab hold and never let go. Instead, he took a deep breath, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Have this far,” he said, grinning up at Tony. “I guess there's no reason to stop at this point.” He headed up the stairs, and reached around Tony to open the door for him. “Are you planning on telling me what we're eating at any point tonight?”

“Nah,” Tony said, waving a hand in a disdainful gesture. He gave Steve a glance out of the corner of his eyes. “I plan on blindfolding you and feeding you by hand.”

He stumbled, and felt his face heat. “Okay,” Steve said, and that made Tony laugh. 

The hostess was a petite woman of Asian descent, her sleek black hair arranged in a soft bun and held in place with a beautiful green comb. She gave a Tony a polite bow, her white silk shirt and flowing black pants accentuating the grace of the gesture. “Good evening, Mr. Stark,” she said, only the faintest lilt of an accent coloring the words. “Your table is ready.”

Tony returned the gesture. “Thank you.” He glanced in Steve's direction as they both followed the tiny woman into the restaurant.

Curious, Steve glanced around, trying not to be obvious about it, but he went unnoticed. The room was large and broad, the diffused lighting sending a pale glow against rich, heavy brocades and dark wood. There were a dozen or so tables that he could see, but they were almost self enclosed, round, high backed bench seats around small tables that created small, private spaces. Along the walls, curtains marked alcoves, some pulled back to reveal benches and chairs, others drawn down to shield the occupants.

The room was alive with soft conversation in a couple of different languages, with the smell of garlic and ginger, pepper and a spice he didn't know, and with the light of flames.

The hostess guided them through the room and down a side corridor. A few unmarked doors were draped with curtains, and she paused in front of one. “Your table,” she said, stepping aside. “Tea?”

Tony nodded. “I'll let you choose, based on the first order,” he said, with a smile. “And hot sake, please. Thank you.”

Steve peered inside the small room, which was dominated by a round table with what appeared to be a burner in the center of it. Tony slid into the bench seat, and Steve took the other side, glancing up at the delicate lantern that lit the space and cast block shadows on the walls. It was warm and comfortable and intimate, and he had no idea what was going on.

As if reading the expression on Steve's face, Tony grinned. “It's hotpot. Shabu, so Japanese hotpot to be precise.” When Steve glanced at him, Tony settled back into the plush seat. “I've done business deals here. The food's good and they're very discreet, a lot of their clientele don't want the papers knowing who they're working with until the press release goes out. I figured we deserved one date that the tabloids wouldn't be following us around, and, well, almost any good restaurant I could think of, that'd be a problem.”

“I don't care,” Steve said, because, really, he didn't. 

“I do.” Tony's mouth twitched up on one side, just a little. “I wanted to, you know, have this date be normal, and that's not likely to happen, because I'm on it, but it was either find something obscure or eat pizza on the couch. And that's pathetic, even for me.”

“I like pizza on the couch,” Steve said, because it was true. Even more so now, when Tony almost always leaned against his side, his head on Steve's shoulder. “Pretty much my favorite meal.”

“Despite the fact that it always involves arguing with the team and fighting over the remote and at least one person tipping over a glass and paperwork and reports and sketches covering half of the table?” Tony asked, shaking his head. “Can we have some class?”

“Probably not,” Steve admitted. 

Before he could say anything else, a server slipped in, carrying a full tray. In the front, there was a delicate tea pot and two cups, as well as a white carafe and smaller cups. There was also a series of small white trays with tiny covered pots and little bowls. She gave them a pleasant smile as she unloaded the tray, and stepped back as a young man came in behind her, carrying a decorative cooking pot. He set it on the burner, and with a twist of a hidden knob, she lit the gas flame. They both gave a polite nod and disappeared again as Steve peered into the pot of pale liquid.

“I don't understand,” he said to Tony, curious now.

“Hotpot,” Tony said. “It's a basic broth. That-” He nodded at the trays, and Steve reached for one, opening the tiny pots to see spices and minced vegetables, oils and sauces. “You use to season it to your own liking. And they'll bring us plates of meat and vegetables. You cook them by dipping them in the boiling broth, then eat it with rice, sauce and lots of tea.” 

Steve picked up a pot, sniffing at the freshly chopped garlic, that, at least, was familiar. He grinned at Tony. “We're making soup.”

Tony grinned back. “In a manner of speaking.” He nodded at the cups. “Go nuts.” He reached for the tea pot, pouring out a small amount with perfect control, and filling the air with the faint fragrance of jasmine and tea leaves.

“What if I add something you don't like?” Steve asked, using the tiny spoon that was in the pot to add garlic to the broth.

“Then we order a new broth pot,” Tony said, laughing as he poured Steve a cup of tea. “It's really not a big deal, Steve.” He ducked his head over the tea pot. “I was just hoping you'd, I don't know, enjoy it.” A faint frown crossed his face, there and gone again in a moment. “It's not a fancy meal, but it's a good one.” He glanced up, dark eyes brilliant in the low light. “I wanted you to like it.”

“I'm not fussy, Tony. I like everything,” Steve said with a shrug, sniffing at a jar of orange-red oil. The spice hit his nose and made his eyes tear up. He added a drop or two, careful with it.

“No, you don't. You'll eat anything, but that doesn't mean you like everything,” Tony said, and there was a faint note under his words that Steve didn't understand. “You just feel obligated to eat it.”

Steve gave him a look, one eyebrow arched. “No, I don't.”

“Yes, you do.” Tony shook his head. “I thought, at first, that you just were eager to try everything, even the stuff that you never would've run into, back in the thirties. But you eat everything that's put in front of you.” He sipped his tea. “No one likes everything. You just don't want to have perfectly good food be thrown out because you don't want to eat it.”

Steve shrugged as he added ginger, and what he thought was a minced mushroom. “It's wasteful,” he said, not really wanting to talk about it. He'd been hungry. More times than he cared to remember, he'd been hungry. Growing up, he'd been poor, and he'd been without his parents as a young man, on his own, except for Bucky, and being picky meant he went hungry. Food was food, and he'd been raised to eat it without complaint. It wasn't like his mother could help it, she fed him the best she could, even in the lean times, and most of his childhood, he'd been too sick to do much to help.

What he could do was never, ever complain. 

Of course there were things he liked better than others, but he'd been poor, and he'd been hungry, and he'd been to war. He'd known the sensation of an empty belly, trying to sleep with that gnawing pain in his gut. He'd known what it was like to wake up, exhausted and hollow and wanting something that he wasn't going to get.

That he couldn't have.

He didn't complain about what was put in front of him. He never had, and he couldn't imagine ever doing it. Sure, a lot of the things he'd had since waking up in the 21st century were odd and unfamiliar, and took getting used to, but most of them were good. Most of it, he really liked, but even the stuff he didn't like?

Steve ate what was put in front of him, and he ate all of it. 

“Admirable,” Tony said. “But, I don't know, I wanted this to be something you liked. So shabu comes by the plate. We order a little of something, like beef short rib, or mushrooms. And if you like it-” He leaned over, sounding urgent all of a sudden, “If you LIKE it, then we can order some more. And if you don't like it, we eat that little bit and we try something different.”

Steve blinked at him, and struggled to find something to say. “It's not-” He stopped as Tony grabbed his hand.

“Can you just, just once, promise not to eat anything you don't enjoy?” Tony asked, and he was smiling in a way that softened the words. “I promise, I'll only order things I like, so if you don't want to eat it, just for one goddamn meal, will you please let me be the responsible one who eats the leftovers?”

Steve opened his mouth, and didn't know what to say. So instead, he just leaned over and kissed Tony on the lips. Tony twitched against him, and then relaxed, his hand sliding around against Steve's palm to weave their fingers together. Steve pulled away, and this felt right, warmth and the comforting aroma of the stock coming to a boil, Tony's hand in his, his lips tingling from the kiss. 

This felt so right he gritted his teeth against the desire to just curl himself around Tony and hold on.

“Does that mean I can have anything I want?” he asked instead, and Tony laughed.

“Name it, and if it's in my power, it's yours,” Tony said, smirking as he did.

Before Steve could say anything he'd regret, the waitress returned, with platters of thinly sliced meats and beautiful vegetables of varying degrees of familiarity ready to cook. Steve sat back as Tony began laying out the ingredients, and wondered if Darcy would make fun of him forever if he ended up asking her how to seduce someone.

Because he really had no idea how to go about getting what he wanted.

*

“Are you seriously trying to pay?” Tony leaned one elbow on the table, propping his chin on his upthrust fist. “Really?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Steve said, frowning over the rim of his rice bowl. He cradled the delicate porcelain with careful fingers, wielding his chopsticks like he'd been born to them.

“Uh-huh.” Tony considered him with one upraised eyebrow. Steve, being Steve, didn't flinch under the scrutiny, just gave Tony a faint, warm smile. Tony shook his head and reached for the tea pot. “Your little attempts to be subtle with the waitstaff? Not as subtle as you think. Seriously, I know I've got a certain reputation for being a bit oblivious under certain situations, but I can pay attention. You know, when I feel like it. Or when I'm not in the workshop.” He filled Steve's tea cup and picked up his own. “Or when I'm not thinking about the workshop, or a project, or starting a project,” he added, because what the hell, not like Steve hadn't been living with him for months and months. 

Actually, it was kind of freeing, dating someone who was already aware of about ninety-five percent of his bad habits. He paused, considering. Okay, maybe seventy-five percent of his bad habits.

Steve's cheeks were flushed, but to his credit, he didn't back down. “I ate a lot more than you.”

Tony bit the inside of his mouth, trying to choke back the laugh that threatened to slip out; he had a feeling that Steve would take it the wrong way. And he shouldn't laugh. He shouldn't. It obviously meant a lot to Steve, and, well, it was kind of nice. “No one's offered to buy me a meal that wasn't attached to a business credit card in I don't know how long,” he said.

Steve considered him, setting his chopsticks down on the rest, the movements precise. “Why not?” he asked, his long lashes dipping low over his eyes.

“Because I'm richer than most people?” Tony said, his lips twitching. He rolled the tea cup between his hands, soaking in the warmth. “I suppose it's silly, who cares who pays?”

“I don't think it's silly,” Steve said after a moment. “I mean, I guess it is. But it's also-” He paused, took a deep breath. “Wanting to provide a meal, in spirit, if not with your own two hands.”

Tony thought about that. “You want to feed me.”

“I find that I do, for some reason.” Steve glanced up, his teeth flashing in a grin. “It's nice. The idea of it.”

Tony felt his lips twitch. “I can't cook.”

“I like it when you bring me coffee,” Steve said. “Or take-out.” He grinned at Tony. “I'm easy.”

“You'll have to be, I'm not really good at remembering to feed myself, let alone anyone else.” Without really thinking about it, he reached across the table, brushing a strand of hair away from Steve's forehead. “Tell you what, you get this one, and I'll pay next time.”

Steve's grin was brilliant. “Is that an invitation?”

“Depends on your answer.”

“Yes.” The word was firm, immediate, and that was nice, Tony decided not to think about how he wanted to hear Steve say that in response to some distinctly dirty suggestions.

“In that case, it was an invitation.” Tony arched his eyebrows. “You pick the place next time.”

His phone buzzed in the inside pocket of his coat, and he reached for it, because Jarvis had strict orders about who he was taking calls from tonight, and it was a very short list. “Sorry, one sec,” he said, pulling it out. He checked the readout with a faint frown. Rhodey. He silenced it and slipped it back, but when he looked up, Steve was studying him, brow furrowed with concern. “Not official business,” he said, but Steve was already folding up his napkin and moving towards the edge of the banquette. 

“Who is it?” he asked, his voice pitched low. 

“Rhodey, but he's not calling on Air Force lines, so it's personal,” Tony said, with a smile. “I'll give him a call back later tonight.”

Steve relaxed, the tension going out of his shoulders. “Call him back now,” he said, frowning. “You haven't talked to him in weeks, have you?”

“He's been on assignment, but we've traded texts,” Tony said, waving him off. “It's fine, really.”

“Call him back,” Steve repeated. “He might not be available later, and you know it.” He paused, his brow furrowed. “He worries about you. You know he does.”

“I was trying to be polite here, and not answer the phone in the middle of dinner. Kind of rude,” Tony pointed out.

“We're done eating, and I'm not going anywhere. Go.” 

“Fine, fine!” Laughing, Tony slid out from behind the table. “Are you just getting rid of me so that you can pay the bill?”

Steve grinned up at him. “No.”

“Because I'll notice, if that's what you're doing, I will notice this, Rogers, I am-”

“Go!” Laughing, Steve pointed at the door. Tony stared down at him, at the warmth in his eyes, the relaxed grin and the flush in his cheeks, and couldn't resist reaching out, his fingers brushing against the smooth plane of Steve's cheek. As Tony watched, Steve's grin relaxed, went warm and sweet, his hand coming up to cover Tony's fingers.

Tony leaned down, taking his time, giving Steve plenty of time to pull away. Instead, Steve met him halfway, their lips brushing, light and gentle. “Going,” he whispered, the word breathed against Steve's mouth.

For an instant, Steve's hand tightened, pinning Tony's palm to his cheek. “Don't go far,” he whispered back. “Okay?”

“Just stepping outside.” Tony waited for Steve to release his hand before he stepped back. “I will be right back.” Because this was still something. Steve was quiet about it, he was careful to keep it to himself, but Tony could see the spikes of anxiety in his eyes, in the battlefield and off of it, when Tony wasn't where he was supposed to be, when Steve couldn't locate him with a glance.

Steve nodded, his eyes sliding shut. “I'll be right out,” he said, and his jaw was tight, his fingers tense as he reached for his tea cup.

Tony leaned back in, catching Steve's chin and tipping it up for another kiss. “I'll see you in just a few minutes.” With a reassuring smile, he headed for the front of the restaurant.

Stepping outside, he ducked just to the side of the entrance, glancing around as he pulled out his phone. No one was paying him any attention, which was always nice. Bracing his back against the stone facade of the building, he glanced up at the clear night sky, staring at the big, bright full moon hovering high over the horizon. It lit everything, the light a warm, pale golden glow over the stark white gleam of the street lights. He took a deep breath as the call went through, filling his lungs with cool night air.

“What, was it a good part of the movie?” Rhodey asked without preamble.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I was busy. And hello to you, too, Rhodes.”

“C'mon, Stark, pull the other one.” There was laughter in Rhodey's voice. “Thursday night. What're the world's most powerful people watching tonight? Whose turn is it to choose?”

“Coulson's, and screw you,” Tony said, grinning. “Jesus, what, you get back from a two week long classified mission and your first and only act is to call me up and bitch me out for not having a life? How's things going over there, Pot? And by the way, I think you know what color that makes you.”

“Excuse me, my first act was to get something decent to eat, my second act was to take the hottest shower that the lousy plumbing here can produce, my THIRD act was to call and bitch you out for not having a life. Let's get that right. You are not nearly so important as you think you are, you egomaniac.” In the background, Tony could hear water and machinery, and the faint beep of a timer going off. “Congratulations on staying out of the tabloids for an entire week,” Rhodey said.

“Congratulations on the fact that your fourth act upon finishing your mission is to do laundry,” Tony shot back. “Are the paparazzi waiting for you outside? Leaning up the door, pounding against your windows, yelling for your attention?”

“No, but at least I'll have clean underwear if they show up.”

Tony burst out laughing, and Rhodey was laughing with him, warm and husky and lower pitched than Tony's. “Screw you, Rhodes,” Tony managed, choking on something that was embarrassingly like a giggle. “And are you okay?”

“I'm just fine, dirty and battered, but fine. And to answer the question you're so desperately trying not to ask, the suit's fine, too. How're the ribs?”

Tony bit back a sigh. “It's been a month, Rhodey. I'm healed.” Plenty of time to fuss with the armor and fuss with his idiot teammates and let Steve fuss over him. He didn't object, especially after being dragged halfway around the world and halfway across the galaxy, it was nice to let things go back to normal. But he was fine now and it was getting tiresome. “I'm fine, clean bill of health, or as clean as I'm likely to get.”

Rhodey made a non-committal noise. “How're things in New York?”

“It's been quiet,” Tony said, watching as the cabs whipped by in front of him. There wasn't much foot traffic out this way, not at this time of night, and those who were walking the sidewalks weren't interested in making eye contact. Welcome to New York. “Well, as quiet as New York gets, if you know what I mean. Pepper's been keeping the company going, or so she tells me in no uncertain terms, I made some strides on the new joint structure, bring the Machine by next time you come and I'll run you some upgrades, and evil has been cranky and resentful, but relatively quiet.”

“Dangerous,” Rhodey said. 

“I'll take quiet and leaving me the hell alone,” Tony said. A quick wind kicked up, and he shivered, hunching his shoulders against the brisk chill. “I've got problems of my own, is it too much to ask that I keep one suit intact long enough to test the new advances?”

“Whine, whine, whine,” Rhodey said. “Seriously, I am having trouble working up sympathy for you right now.”

“Why did I call you back, again?”

“Because you secretly like that I am not impressed by your bullshit. C'mon, what're you watching?”

“I don't know, I'm out,” Tony said. There was a long silence. “What?”

“You ditched movie night?”

“I am hearing a note of disapproval here, and I do not know what you think you're pulling, Rhodes. I didn't 'ditch' movie night, and really? First you're making fun of me for taking part in movie night, now you're disapproving of me not being at movie night? Make up your mind.”

“It's your team time, I got respect for team time,” Rhodey said, and his voice was almost prim. Tony grinned. “I thought you were kind of coming to terms with team bonding, you know, when you weren't being a loner asshole pretending that you didn't need a team.” 

“Team is fine, yay, team,” Tony told him. “We're fine, the team and I are fine, they destroy my stuff and make a mess out of my tower and force me to interact with Nick Fury on a regular basis, and I am still fine with my team. Maturity, and all that shit.” 

“But you're not doing movie night?”

“I had a date,” Tony said, wondering of Pepper had told Rhodey about the whole, well, him and Steve thing. 

“You dumped your team for a date?”

“They're still going to be there when I get back, Rhodey. They live there.”

Rhodey let out a long sigh. “Tony, really? What's important to you?”

“Wow, is this a lecture, cause I'm not really up for that tonight, can we schedule this for another time, like never, because I really have other things to worry about-”

“You need to respect them, Tony. They've stood by you through a lot recently. And they worry, we all worry. Especially since your kidnapping.”

“I'm fine,” Tony told him.

“I know, I know. I know that. But that was bad, Tony. That was horrible,” he said, with no trace of exaggeration. “They were afraid, Tony, and so was I. All of us were, and you came back, and you have to expect that there's going to be some stress to that. You get yourself into these messes, and you never think how it's going to affect everyone around you.”

“I'll keep that in mind the next time I get kidnapped,” Tony said.

“Can you just, you know, not disappear? For any reason? I got nerves, man, and you get on every last one of them when you do that, it's embarrassing.”

“It's not my fault that you're high strung,” Tony pointed out.

“I am going to ignore that. So, since I'm sure I'll be jealous, given that military food is, well, military food, what was on the menu tonight?”

“Shabu, it's always good, I like hotpot and Steve-”

“Steve.” The word was sharp, almost a question, but not really. When Tony didn't respond, he said it again. “Steve? I thought you were on a date.”

Tony winced. Okay, so Pepper hadn't told him. Great. The one time Pepper decided to be discreet about his personal life is the one time Tony would've preferred otherwise. “Rhodey, look-”

“Steve,” Rhodey repeated. “Aw, Tony, really?”

“Really,” Tony said from between clenched teeth. “I know it's a little weird, but it's-”

“You can't do this,” Rhodey interrupted. “You know this isn't healthy, Tony. You've gotta work with the man, hell, you're LIVING with the man. What are you supposed to do with this? I was worried about this, I was, because you get attached to people, and, I don't know-”

“Hey!” Tony snapped. “What do you want? I mean, is this really a problem for you? All the shit you've put up with, and THIS is what you have a problem with? Because as it turns out there's a very short list of people who can stand to be around me for more than a couple of days, and once you remove those who are just looking for a quick cash influx, the list is even shorter, so can we have some appreciation for the few people who actually like me? You really want me, what, having one night stands for the rest of my life?”

“No, no, I don't, and you know it! I don't care who you're sleeping with, Tony, don't you put that one on me. What I care about is that you get attached to your friends, and you want to make that something more, and we've been through this before, we have done this. This is Pepper all over again, except it's worse. It is worse. Does Steve even know you consider this a date?”

“Yes.”

“Tony...”

Tony resisted the urge to hang up the phone. “Steve knows goddamn well that it's a date, I didn't, I don't know, what are you thinking right now? That he thinks we're just hanging out as buddies, and I'm lusting after him? You do realize he's a grown man, don't you? What do you think, that I'm going to-” He stopped, his jaw tight. “He knows what he's getting, I mean, more than anyone I've dated, except maybe Pepper.” And that still hurt, he still shied away from that, a little, because Pepper had known what she was getting into, and it still hadn't worked. He slumped back against the stone, head down. “He knows what's going on.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

Tony gave a snort of laughter, sharp and bitter. “You looking for a blow-by-blow?” The silence was disapproving. Tony sighed. “No. We're not sleeping together. It's just a date.”

“Tony, I just don't want you getting hurt, you know that, don't you?” Rhodey sounded tired. Sad. Worn and raw. “I just... I don't want you getting in over your head here, and I think it'd be really easy to get in over your head.” There was a pause, stretching thin and fine, only the sound of their breathing battling over the connection. “He's on your team, he's living in your building, you're his lifeline and his friend and his support, and all of that gets messed up if you start putting things on him that he can't reciprocate.”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “I know that, you think I don't know that?” he snapped. “It's fine, Rhodey, he's...” His voice trailed off and he ignored the feeling of misery that threatened to swamp him. “Look, it's just one goddamn date, it's not going to lead to anything, anyway, so get off my back.”

“Tony? Hey, look-”

“Excuse me, please.” The phone was plucked out of his hand, and Tony jerked up, surprised. Steve flipped the phone around, and his hand coming down on Tony's shoulder, his grip firm and warm.

“Hello? Yes, I'm sorry, this is Steve Rogers. Yes, hello. Thank you, it's nice to talk to you, too. Yes.” Steve met Tony's eyes. “I appreciate your concern, Col. Rhodes. I do, and I apologize for intruding on a conversation that isn't any of my business, but-” He paused, his jaw jerking tight. “This is my first date,” he said, his cheeks flushing dark. “Ever. Someone else set it up, and that's my fault, because I didn't want to take the risk that Tony would say no, if I asked. But this is my first date, it's a date I have been looking forward to for weeks, and if you freak him out to the point where he refuses to go on a second one with me, you and I are going to have words. Short, not so nice words.”

Tony choked on a laugh, and slapped a hand over his mouth. Steve grinned at him, but his attention was still on the phone call. “Yes. Yeah, it was Clint. He threatened to shoot us both, so that, yes, that was pretty damn effective. But this is where I want to be, I'm not oblivious, I'm not that naive, and I am sorry if it makes things difficult for you, but as long as Tony wants to date me? I'm going to be dating your best friend, so I'm hoping we can be on friendly terms, at least.”

His thumb stroked against the plane of Tony's collarbone, and even through his clothes, the touch made Tony shudder. Steve stepped closer, the bulk of his body blocking the crisp breeze, folding Tony against the stone, protective and sexually charged, all at once. 

“Thank you,” Steve was saying, and Tony was having trouble concentrating, because he could smell the scent of Steve's soap and cologne, feel the warmth of his body. “Yes. I understand, and I appreciate it. Great. Thank you, Col. Rhodes. Rhodey, of course, thank you.” He was smiling now, and whatever Rhodey was saying, Tony could hear him saying something, and whatever it was, it was something Steve liked. He leaned in and kissed Tony, quick and light, and there was affection there, offhand and without thought. The kiss was just... Nice. “Yes, I agree,” Steve said, and the words were muffled against Tony's cheek, against his skin. “Thank you again, really, Rhodey. It was nice talking to you.”

Steve held the phone out to Tony. “I'm sorry,” he said. “Here you go.”

“Oh, can I have my phone back?” Tony asked, and he was laughing. “Are you done yelling at my best friend now?”

“For the time being,” Steve said, trying to look and sound serious, but he was sweet about it, with that warm smile and flushed cheeks.

Tony brought the phone up to his ear. “Captain Steven Rogers, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, grinning at Steve, who laughed. “Let's give him a round of applause.”

There was a slow, steady clapping on the other end of the line. “Damn,” Rhodey said. “I just got bitched out by an American Icon, and I do not even feel bad about that.”

“He has a way of doing that,” Tony agreed, and Steve was still right there, warm and solid and it seemed natural and right to slide his free arm around Steve's waist, pulling him close. Steve came willingly, leaning into Tony's body, nuzzling his cheek, his hair with a smiling mouth. “Class act. Hard to make him do anything he doesn't want to do, just so you know.”

“I kind of got that impression, yes.” There was a beat of pause. “This is what you want?”

Tony took a deep breath, and it was all Steve, close and warm and feeling right against him. “Yes.”

“All right, then,” Rhodey said. 

“That's it?” Tony asked, resting his head on Steve's shoulder. “No other mother henning to do?”

“As long as you're both happy, I'm happy for you. Be careful, okay? I think this guy's got his eye on you,” Rhodey said, and he was still laughing.

“I could only be that lucky,” Tony said. “Give me a call tomorrow, okay?”

“You got it.”

Tony ended the call and put his phone away. “So,” he said.

“That was overstepping myself, wasn't it?” Steve said, trying to pull away.

Tony refused to let him go. “Probably,” he said, smiling at Steve. “What the hell was that?” 

Steve's rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “I kind of thought I'd have to, you know, well, Fury being what he is, I thought-”

Tony burst out laughing. “Oh, God, you know that Coulson had to brief Fury on this. You know he tried to slip it into some innocuous report in the chaos after I was returned, and you know Fury has been waiting for someone to hook up since the team was formed-” The words were lost as he started laughing too hard to get them out any more. He bent forward, burying his face in Steve's shoulder, his whole body shaking with the force of it. “Wanna bet he just slipped a picture into a file folder and acted like everything was completely normal when Nick blew a goddamn gasket?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony's waist, pulling him close. “As long as he doesn't make an issue about it, I don't care. But that being the case, I think we owe Coulson a thank you.”

“Or a fruit basket.” Tony leaned into Steve's body, looping his arms around Steve's neck. “Rhodey likes you,” he said, as one of Steve's hands stroked up his back. “He just, apparently no one told him, you know, about us, and I make a lot of bad decisions, so he was just-”

“Who did you expect was going to tell him?” Steve asked, pulling back far enough so he could meet Tony's eyes. He arched his eyebrows. “You didn't tell your best friend about this.”

Tony sighed. “It kept getting put off, and I didn't-” He shrugged. “I didn't know if it was actually going to happen.” Steve was studying him, eyes narrowed, jaw tight, and Tony shook his head. “Look, I know-”

Steve leaned in. “Do you want this?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Tony said, and that was apparently all Steve needed, because he bridged the distance, his lips warm and growing every more familiar. Tony's eyes fluttered close, and some part of his brain wondered if he'd ever spent this much time kissing someone. Even with Pepper, they'd progressed to sex pretty quickly, and that had been fine, he hadn't been objecting, but this was different. This slow, steady build-up that didn't seem wrong, or out of place or painful, just a kiss over a cup of coffee, a touch of a hand or a smile as they passed one another in the hall, the warmth of his body, the sound of his breathing late at night on the couch.

Tony was pretty sure he'd never been so close to simply ripping someone's clothes off in his entire life, watching that lovely knife's edge between hormone overload and sweet, almost chaste affection. He had never wanted to get laid so bad in his life, his brain a mass of want whenever he was alone, trying to work or trying to sleep or trying to concentrate on anything that wasn't Steve. But whenever Steve was in reach, it was...

Fine. It was fine, that this was his life.

The kiss ended, and he ached, his whole body a live wire, and he let his head fall forward again, breathing hard against the fabric of Steve's jacket. He licked his lips. “Dessert?” he asked, and shook his head. “I mean, coffee?”

Steve's eyes were a thin rim of blue around his blown pupils, and for an instant, he seemed unable to concentrate on what Tony had just asked. He swallowed, his throat working, and his voice was husky when he finally replied. “You know a place?”

“Yeah, well, if we go home now, we'll be just in time for the second film of the double-feature, and I do not want to deal with Clint's 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more,'” Tony said. Steve stepped back, and Tony shivered at the loss of his body heat.

Steve nodded. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“And that's why we'll be watching Monty Python next time it's my choice to choose the movie,” Tony said, laughing as he slid his hand into Steve's.

“Okay,” Steve said, smiling as his fingers closed around Tony's. “I think that's-”

There was a crack, hard and loud, so loud it hurt, and Tony thought it was a building coming down, or the street under them breaking, like the ground itself was splitting in two. It was an explosion, air shoved back with brutal force, and he felt his feet leave the ground, just for a second, and the only thing in his world was Steve's hand on his, the grip turning hard, brutal. He was airborne, he was floating, falling, and he was pretty sure he was screaming, yelling for Steve but he was deaf, the sound either echoing or imprinted on his eardrums.

The flash of light, pale blue green stole his vision, and everything went dark.

*

It was cold.

The air was cold in his lungs, hard and sharp as he sucked in a breath, and it was hard to breathe, there was pressure, there was weight on him, crushing him, and something was on his face, choking him. Tony struggled towards wakefulness, trying to breathe, trying to clear his head, and just like that, his eyes snapped open. 

For an instant, he stared at the black expanse, panic a living thing in his chest, then he twisted his head to the side. Finding a pocket of air, he sucked in a breath, and it was a little better. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes, and his head. Trying to get a hand free, he clawed at something, something cold and stiff, and it was cloth, he was pretty sure it was cloth. He wiggled to the side, twisting his body, and his fingers hit something else.

Hair.

And suddenly the dead weight on top of him, the horrible stillness of the pressure that bore him against the pavement was too terribly familiar. “Steve?” he gasped out, his shaking hand combing through the hair, trying to find Steve's skin, trying to find some sign of life. “Oh, God, don't be- Please. Steve? I can't-” He gritted his teeth, struggling in earnest now, but Steve was heavy, and he was wrapped around Tony, over him, arm pinned beneath Tony's head. 

Because whatever had happened, he'd tried to shield Tony with his body.

Tony shoved up, hard, ignoring the twinge from his newly-healed ribs, he twisted, getting his arm free enough to stroke the length of Steve's neck, into his hair from a different angle. He found a knot, a raised patch of skin on the crown of Steve's head, faintly tacky with blood, but his shaking, cold fingers were starting to find warmth, and as he pushed upwards, Steve's head rolled against his temple, his breath sighing against Tony's skin.

Relief was a heady, dizzying thing. “Steve?” he said. “Steve, wake up, we're in trouble here. C'mon, Cap, assembling time.”

Steve stirred, a groan stuttering from his lips, and Tony let out a breath that was perilously close to a sob as the panic ebbed. “Steve, talk to me,” he said, his voice shaking. “Baby? C'mon, wake up, Steve.”

Steve was moving now, pushing himself up, his arms shaking as he forced his weight off of Tony. “Tony?” his voice was raw, but his eyes were already focusing. “You hurt?”

“No.” Tony reached up, steadying his shoulders. “You've got a lump on the back of your head, you must've gotten clipped by something. Are you all right? Can you see?”

“I'm- I'm fine.” Steve's head jerked up, and his eyes flicked around. “What- What happened?”

“I don't know.” Pushing himself back, Tony managed to sit up, not moving out of reach, but letting Steve find his balance again. “Oh, fuck...”

“Yeah.” Steve rolled away, his hand finding Tony's shoulder, the contact steadying them both.

The New York street was an iced over alien landscape. Snow swirled in thick drifts, sharp and cutting, ice dripped from windows, from roofs, from every overhang and bannister and slathered thick over every horizontal surface. The street had grown sharp spikes, ice like stalagmites cracking the pavement, wrecking cabs and leaving oil slicks through the crystal shards. Wind howled overhead, and despite that, despite the moving air, clouds hung dark and low, obscuring the sky, hiding the skyline. The sharp whine of car alarms and faint echoes of screams hung in the cold air, broken by the sound of breaking ice and something else, something far off and foreign that echoed through the streets.

They were both scrambling to their feet, and they weren't the only ones. A handful of people were standing around, shock and confusion on their faces. A cab was in the middle of the road, the engine still rolling, but the tires shredded on the ice shards. Someone was crying.

“Get inside,” Steve yelled, and everyone looked at him. Confused. Angry. Afraid. Steve turned back to the restaurants. “Get inside. Get off the streets. Go, now!”

A door opened, then another up the block, and here and there, people peered out, fear on their faces as they stared at the unnatural occurrence. Up and down the street, as far as Tony could see, people ducked inside buildings, pulling others up and with them. A handful were limping, or crying, but the injuries seemed minor, or easily forgotten.

Tony had his phone out, dialing the Avengers primary number, the one that ran to everyone's phone. And as Steve stepped away, helping a man who seemed in shock to his feet, Tony stood there, listening to the phone ring. And ring. And ring.

It didn't go to voice mail. Because this was a number that always got picked up. Always. No point in setting voice mail, the emergency system would route it to each of their phones. Beyond them, to SHIELD. To Jarvis himself. Someone always picked up. But as Tony stood there, wind whipping at his thin coat, the call rang. And rang. And rang.

No one answered.

Steve was back, and how much time had passed, Tony didn't know, but he was gripping Tony's shoulder, his face white. “Tony?” he asked.

“No one's picking up,” Tony said. “Call SHIELD. They're not picking up. There's something wrong.”

For an instant, he thought Steve would argue, but he was better than that, a better leader, a better man, and he nodded. As he put the call in to SHIELD, Tony swallowed a rising sense of panic and flipped his phone around, minimizing the active call and pulling up his direct interface with Jarvis.

He wasn't surprised when his phone couldn't make a connection. He wasn't surprised, but the sensation of terror wasn't anything he wanted to dwell on. “How long were we out?” he asked, resisting the urge to curse and fling the thing at the wall.

“Only a few minutes.” Snow was shifting around them, already forming drifts against their legs, and Steve caught his arm, pulling him into the shelter a nearby alley. There, at least, the wind didn't cut so deep. “Science, or magic?”

“Could be either.” Tony was staring at the skyline, trying to see through the clouds, but they were too thick. “Loki?”

“Asgard would've told us if he'd gotten loose,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“That's if they knew.” Tony sucked in a hard breath. “What's the call, Cap?”

“Get to the Tower,” Steve said, not even a heartbeat of a pause. 

“Right. Let's recap,” Tony said, even as he fell into step behind Steve. “There's something that's turned New York into a nightmare right out of an ice age or a C.S. Lewis story, we're weaponless, defenseless, half a mile from our car, our team and our back up are both unresponsive, we have no idea how much of the city is affected and the lines of communication in and out of New York may or may not be working. Also, everything is covered in ice, and we're wearing goddamn dress shoes.” He paused. “That about right?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but I think we can-” Steve broke off mid-word as the ground started to tremble.

Someone was screaming, and they both turned, just in time to see a giant, lumbering mass of ice peel through the fog. A monster with long legs and horrific claws, long enough to scrape the pavement as it crashed forward, awkward and uneven, massive feet like tree stumps shattering the pavement and sending sprays of ice out with each step, heaved into view. It's head, a good ten feet off the ground, and crowned with shattered icicles, swung from side to side, and it let out a wailing cry as it raised a malformed arm. It swung, the ice claws slicing through a light pole and sending chunks of metal clattering to the ice bound street.

Tony realized he was pressed back up against the stone building, Steve in front of him, an arm pressed hard against Tony's chest, keeping him back and sheltered behind the bulk of Steve's chest. “I think,” Tony breathed, “I legitimately get to say it once, Steve.”

“I really regret making you leave the suit behind,” Steve said.

“I really wish I had my suit,” Tony agreed. “Okay, I feel better.”

“Good. Car. Run.”

Before they could move, before they could even take a step, the creature turned in their direction, eyes like black sparks hollowing deep in its skull. It opened its mouth and roared, lunging forward, one arm coming up, claws spread wide. 

“FOOOOOOOUND YOUUUUUUUUU!”

A streak of white impacted with the monster's hand. Distracted, angry, it twisted, letting out a shriek. A blue and red form dropped out of the sky, catching a nearby light pole, swinging around the top and launching forward. It hit, feet first, in the back of the giant's head, knocking it forward and off balance. It tilted, twisted, and crashed to the pavement, shattering on impact.

With a bounce and a roll, Spider-Man landed in front of them. “Wondered where that one went,” he said. “Oh, and by the way? Run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here the "Special Guest Stars" begin. I have a lot of love for a lot of Marvel characters, and I'm going to play around with some cameos. Some are not part of the MCU, some aren't yet part of any movie-verse. I apologize to those who consider that certain lines need to be drawn between the MCU and movies owned by other studios. I don't agree, and I'll be screwing with a lot of boundaries here.
> 
> I like a lot of Marvel characters, and I'd like to play at writing them. 8)


	3. Chapter 3

“You know, most people say hello,” Tony pointed out, or tried to point out, because a second later, an arm was latching around his waist, cutting into his diaphragm and knocking anything resembling air straight out of him. A second after that, he found himself airborne, and he might've screamed, high and sharp and a bit panicked, and then he was crashing into Steve, Steve's arms closing around him and plucking him out of the air as something huge and heavy crashed down on the sidewalk where he'd just been.

“Aw, it followed me home!” Spider-Man crowed, flinging himself up with a flick of his legs. He bounced off a building, webbing shooting out to let him sling-shot around a light pole. He crashed into the back of the monster's head, legs around it's neck, arms covering its eyes. “Can I keep it?” 

The creature let out a roar, arms and legs flailing as it tried to swipe off its new passenger. Steve got his feet under him, pushing Tony up against the wall with one hand and charged, taking advantage of the creature's distraction. He slammed into its leg as Tony was still trying to get traction, his shoes sliding on the ice as he choked on a curse.

Steve shoved hard, catching the knee and wrenching the creature around as Spidey flipped over its head, using his weight to tip it forward, and then springing free as it crashed to the pavement. The figure dissolved in a wave of shards and chunks, and Spidey rolled across the frozen ground. “Well, that was fun.”

“No, it was not,” Tony gritted out as Steve cut a glance in his direction. There was fear in his eyes, just for a second, and then it was gone, relief bleeding through, relaxing his tight features. “Where are you finding these things?”

“There's, uh, a lot of them,” Spider-Man said, and he was hopping up, clinging to the side of the building and hovering there above them. “Like, a lot, a lot,” he said. He tipped his head back. “What's going on?”

“We don't know, why do you think we know?” Tony asked.

“Because you tend to know these things.” Spider-Man shrugged. Since that left him hanging upside down in a reverse crouch by the balls of his feet on the side of a building, it was intensely disconcerting to watch. “Sometimes you cause them.” He paused. “Most of the time you cause them.”

There was a sound suspiciously like a choked back snort of laughter from Steve, and Tony gave him a look. “I had nothing to do with this. We were having dinner, the city was rolling along as normal, and next thing we know, it's nuclear winter out here.”

“We haven't gotten off this street yet, we were clearing the civilians off,” Steve said, and Spidey nodded. 

“I haven't seen much myself. The fog is... It's a little unnerving, in terms of the way I travel, like riding a bike off a cliff and hoping it's not too far to the ground. And it's always a long way to the ground, and the ground is covered in spikes, spikes and holes. Laugh a minute.” He shook his head. “Not to mention that from what little I have seen? The streets are full of these things, they're moving in loose packs, and there's a bunch of different types. Some of them are bipedal, you know, all fee-fi-fo-fum giants stomping around, others are smaller, but fast, low to the ground and nasty. Like little cold spiky wolves.” He paused. “And 'little' is a subjective term. They have big, icy teeth. And they're fast. Did I mention the fast?”

“Wonderful,” Tony grumbled.

Spider-Man shrugged again, and this time he dropped back to the ground to study the remains. “The only plus is, if you can put them down? They stay down.” He kicked at a chunk of ice with one foot, sending it clattering across the street.

“Magic?” Tony asked.

Steve was crouched down by the shattered remains, turning a piece over in his bare hand. “Looks like. Just normal ice now that it's broken.”

“Fuck. I hate magic.” Tony shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Should've figured, though. This came on way too fast to be anything else.” A quick burst of wind cut through, and he repressed a shiver.

“How much of the city is affected?” Steve asked Spidey.

“As much as I could see, all of it. The fog sucks for recon, but I was in the air when it happened, nearly went through a plate glass window, I got thrown off so bad. People have been getting the hell off the streets, and the police are mobilizing, but communications seem scrambled, and the streets are impassable in a big chunk of the city.” He paused. “The ice gets bad. Very bad.”

“We need to get back uptown,” Tony told him. He fingered his phone in his pocket, wondering if he could get anyone to pick up. He suspected the answer was no, and he didn't want it confirmed. But he pulled it out, setting it to a repeat call cycle that would ring if anyone picked up. 

“I doubt you'll make it by car,” Spidey said, with a shake of his head. “Things get ugly fast.” He shifted on his feet, muscles flexing under his skin-tight costume. “Maybe on foot. I can get one of you over the worst of it, but I can't carry you both.”

“I don't get carried,” Tony told him. “I do the carrying.”

Spidey's head fell forward, the gesture one of pity or disdain, or both. “Really? How's that working out for you today?”

“I didn't bring the suit to dinner. That would've been stupid.”

“Bet it feels stupid now,” Spidey said. “Where are we headed?”

“Avengers Tower, as fast as we can,” Tony said. “We need the rest of our team.” Steve was still and quiet behind him, and Tony glanced in his direction. “Cap?” 

Steve's eyes were narrowed, his face expressionless. “How old are you?”

There was a beat of a pause, and Tony glanced over at Spider-Man. “Tweeeenty... Five,” Spidey said at last, and it did not help his case that his voice broke between the words.

“Wow,” Tony said, his lips twitching. “You are not good at this, kid.”

“I'm not a kid,” he said immediately.

Steve's jaw was tight. “You're sixteen. Seventeen, at most.” Spidey flinched, and Steve's shoulders went rigid. “Go home.”

“Look, I-”

“Your family must be going out of their minds, worrying about you.” Steve turned away, his attention going back to the street, where a sustained wind was carrying the howls of something unearthly. “I've had enough experience with kids lying about their age to get into battles they shouldn't have been in to recognize one when I see it. Go home, this isn't the time to play at being a hero.”

“Yeah, cause what kind of idiot would falsify his enlistment documents in order to fake his way into a war?” Tony mused out loud, and Steve shot him a furious look. Tony shrugged. “I call it like I see it, Cap, and really? Right now? He's got a better chance of surviving this than you or I do.”

“I called my family.” There was a careful note in Spidey's voice, something Tony couldn't completely identify, something like pain or pride. It was hard, behind the mask, to find out what he was thinking, but his shoulders were tight, his hands flexing at his sides, muscles tightly delineated by the spandex and the shadows . “Couldn't get through. I don't know if I can get home. But I do know that if I don't do this, people will die.” 

He stepped up, facing Steve directly. “So you may not think I belong here, but I don't see how I can walk away from it.” He was smaller than Steve, lean and long-limbed and built like a marathon runner, built for endurance and stamina. There was something stubborn in his posture, in the way he stood and the cant of his head. His voice was sharp, but controlled. “I can't walk away, I can't go home, because someone will die.” He stopped, his shoulders rising and falling with a sharp breath.

“You don't know that,” Steve said, in the silence that followed.

“Someone always dies,” the boy said, and there was an aching emptiness to the words, pain that was all the more obvious for being understated, quiet in its grief.

“We just don't want it to be you,” Tony said, because they didn't have time for this. “So don't die. Let's go.” Steve opened his mouth, and Tony spread his hands. “What're we gonna do here, Cap? We send him off, he's not going home. You know he's not going to go, he's not going to do what you want just because you want him to. So you turn your back on him now, we lose the advantage of speed, height and a third who can hold his own in a fight, and I am not looking forward to hand to hand fighting with a goddamn fifteen foot tall chunk of ice, don't know about you, but that is not what I want or will ever want. And if you send him off, he's going to go off and do this solo, without backup, and if anything happens, it's on you. Because you sent him off.”

Steve's eyes slid shut, a muscle working in his jaw. “Tony-”

“Kid, don't die, okay? Do not even get injured, or I will never hear the end of it. I will never, ever hear the end of, 'you got that poor kid killed,'” Tony told him. “He gets like that.”

“I'll my best.” Spider-Man snagged the wall with one hand. “So. Are we doing this?”

Steve looked up at him, and he wasn't happy, there was nothing happy about his face, but the kid wasn't giving in. He took a deep breath. “You can show us the ways that are open?” The boy nodded, and Steve shook his head, but there was resignation bleeding into his features now. “Fine. Stay close, and follow orders.”

He turned on his heel and stalked off, and Tony glanced at the kid. “Don't worry about it,” he said, sotto voce. “He just gets stressed out and he feels responsible for everyone. Everyone.” He paused. “Every. One.” 

“Is he?”

Tony shrugged. “I've given up trying to convince him he isn't.” His lips twitched, the expression humorless. “It's a losing battle.”

*

The trip back to the garage was not one that Steve ever wanted to repeat. The temperature was still dropping, the wind picking up, and the ice monsters had suddenly seemed to swell in numbers. They'd managed to avoid detection on the quick trip back, but it was a nerve-wracking journey. By the time they slipped through into the garage, the numbers of monsters prowling the street outside had reached unnerving levels.

Whatever was happening, it clearly hadn't stopped.

The garage was mostly intact, and there was no sign of life, human or otherwise. The ice had only managed to penetrate down one level, and it looked like they could get around it without all that much difficulty. Steve kept them away from the elevators and the stairs, not trusting either, but he was grateful to be off the streets. 

“Damage is localized, in some ways,” Spidey mused, hopping along ahead of them. Steve resisted the urge to yell after him, to tell him to stay close. Not his call, not his team. “Even the monsters don't seem focused. Not many people on the street, and the ones that are, they don't seem real interested in. Like, hey, if there's a civilian directly in front of it, it'll take a second and try to go squishy-squashy, but for the most part? Not really interested in chasing anyone down.”

“They seemed to be chasing you,” Tony pointed out, slipping through a narrow gap that had been created with a pile of ice had fallen across the ramp. A car had taken the brunt of it, and Tony gave the mangled machine a sad look before Steve hustled him on.

Spidey bounced up, catching the ceiling with the pads of his fingers and swinging himself over the icefall. “I'm special!”

“Yes, you are,” Tony agreed, and Steve was too busy watching for trouble to chide him for that. He couldn't hold back a smile, however. “Seriously? Did you see many people on the streets?”

“No. Giant ice things, and a late night-”

Tony glanced at Steve. “It's gotta be more than that,” he said, his voice low.

“Don't borrow trouble,” Steve told him. “It's a Thursday night, maybe people are just staying in for once.”

“Why were you out?” Spider-Man asked. “It's Thursday. Thursday's Avengers' movie night.”

“I cannot believe this is public knowledge, we sound like a group of old married fuddy duddies,” Tony groused. “We have got to get Thor to stop screaming about missing movies at villains, it's absolutely killing our street cred.”

“We were having dinner,” Steve told Spidey, who took a hop and then another, all whip-fast speed and barely controlled energy. Steve wondered how much of it was attempting to keep himself warm; that suit did not look like it did much to keep out the cold.

“By yourselves?”

“I'm kind of old fashioned. I tend not to invite more than one person along on a date.”

“Date?” Spider-Man slipped up and over a concrete barrier, the movement almost liquid. “Like, a date date? A two guys on a date kind of date?”

“That's the typical meaning of the word 'date,'” Steve agreed, not really bothered. He glanced down. “Hold here for a second.” Tony nodded, leaning against the wall and catching his breath, and Steve swung himself over the railing, leaning over to check if the next level down was clear.

“Oh.” Spidey hopped onto the top of a car.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Tony asked, and there was something amused in his voice.

“What? No, no, it's not, it's just, I didn't know he was- That you were into guys,” Spidey said when Steve spared him a quick glance.

“You learn something new every day,” Steve told him, going back to his recon. Things seemed quiet, but he gave it another second, scanning the floor below.

“Does it matter?” Tony asked him.

“No. I'm just disappointed. I could've made a pass.” There was a second of silence and Steve glanced back over his shoulder to find Tony biting his lower lip and trying not to smile. Spidey hummed a little under his breath. “So, did I just, did I just say that aloud? Out of curiosity? Because I was not intending to say that aloud, and yet, I'm pretty sure I did, and that was not-”

“You did, yes,” Tony said, and he was trying not to laugh as Steve shook his head.

“Wow.” The kid was hanging upside down now, halfway up the wall, a nervous spaz of movement, and Tony watched him go with a grin, his head tilted up. “I'm not gay. I don't think. I've never thought about it, maybe I am, I mean, I have a girlfriend, so I don't think so, but maybe I'm bi? I've never thought about that, you'd think I would've figured it out by now if I was, wouldn't I?”

“Can't help you with that particular thought process,” Tony said, eyebrows arched. “I mean, I suppose I could. I could kiss you, see if that helps with figuring it out.”

“I don't know how I feel about that,” Spidey said.

“I know how I feel about that,” Steve said, swinging himself back up. 

Tony bent his head back to meet Steve's eyes. “Ambivalent?”

“To you making out with a teenager on our first date?” Steve's lips kicked up on one side, amused despite himself. “I have a lot of feelings about that. None of them qualify as ambivalence.”

“Well, fine, if you're going to be like that,” Tony said, his lips twitching. “Is this how this relationship's gonna go?” 

“Probably.”

“I can work with that.” Tony looked back at Spider-Man. “Don't worry about it, kid. It's him. Everyone wants to hit on him. Everyone. Elderly women. Lesbians. High ranking military officers. Clergy. The President.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Tony-”

“He doesn't notice. Feel free. Go wild. He'll just think you're being polite.”

“I'm not that dense,” Steve told him, feeling the heat crawl up his neck. He shook it off, the embarrassment and the reaction, and heading down the last ramp to where they'd left the car. “Let's go,” he said, glancing back to make sure that both of them were coming.

“How are your passes?” Tony was asking Spider-Man behind him.

“Non-existent.”

“But you have a girlfriend? You've gotta be doing something right.”

“From a guy dating Captain America, I'll take that as a compliment.”

Steve resisted the urge to shake them both, glad when they reached the car and he could distract them with that. As Spider-Man made impressed noises, and Steve checked the tires and the frame for any incidental damage, Tony dug the keys out and unlocked the trunk. “Let's see if there's anything we can-” Tony let out a sound that could only be called a cackle, drawing their attention. “Oh, Barton, Barton, this is why I let you continue living under my roof, despite the insurance premiums.” He flipped a large, flat case out of the trunk. “And that explains why you were so interested in what car we were taking, because you'd already started packing, you bitch.” He pushed a small suitcase out of the way, setting the weapons case on top.

“You guys have interesting team dynamics,” Spidey said, perched on a nearby railing in an easy crouch. 

“You have no idea,” Tony told him. He bypassed the biometric locks with a couple of quick swipes, and flipped it open. “Bingo.” He pulled out the folded bow and flicked it open with Clint's familiar 'fist pump' gesture.

Steve glanced over his shoulder. There were two pistols, clips, a couple of knives and one of Clint's quivers set into the recessed spots in the case. “Can you shoot that thing?” he asked Tony, who was turning the bow over in his hands.

“In theory, yes. In practice? I can hit the side of a building. Maybe. I've done enough adjustments to it, enough fiddling, that I have to know the basics, but close range is all I can be trusted at. Don't depend on me for long distance hits.” He grabbed the quiver. “However, these-” He ejected the cartridge style setup that held the arrowheads, ready to be attached to the shafts at a touch. “These, I can use.” He pulled one of the explosive tips free, turning it over in his fingers before sliding it back into place. “These, I am intimately familiar with, I've tinkered with all of them a time or two. And the bow's reinforced, it's a damn fine blunt weapon if it comes down to it.”

He pulled the guns free and held one out to Steve, who took it. He didn't like it, but he didn't have to. Without his shield... He needed a weapon of some sort. “Ammo?”

“Half a dozen clips. It's not his weapon of choice.” Tony put the bow back and hefted the quiver to his shoulder before he snapped the lid shut. “We're lucky he's as prepared as he is, it's not a full weapons kit, but it's something.”

Spidey's head tipped to the side as Tony did a quick check on the pistol. “Can you use that thing?” he asked, his voice curious.

“Weapons manufacture is the family business, kid, I was playing with guns when I was still in short pants.” Tony tucked the gun into his pocket. “All set?” he asked Steve.

“He keeps his weapons in good order. Thankfully,” Steve said, doing the same. He accepted the extra clips and put them in his other pocket. “I feel naked without my shield.”

“You feel naked?” Tony asked, arching an eyebrow in his direction. “YOU feel naked? I do not want to discuss this right now, because I'm bitter about the situation.” Still, he slammed the trunk shut. “I am amazingly bitter about this situation.”

Steve's fingers flexed in mid-air, wanting to get a hold of something solid. “I know.”

“I know a place that sells a replica.”

They both looked at Spider-Man. “A replica what?” Tony asked.

“Shield. His shield. It's actually pretty close to the center of the city, where the roads become impassable. I mean, the store is. We can get there by car, but that's about as far as we'll be able to make it, unless the army's managed to clear the roads or something.” He hopped up onto the top of the car, his legs swinging in mid-air before he settled down, arms folded on top of his upthrust knees.

“Who sells-” Steve started.

“Comic shops.” Tony was nodding. “I remember that on the list of SHIELD approved replicas. Captain America's shield.” 

Steve gave him a disbelieving look. “A toy.”

“Full scale metal replica,” Tony told him. “I saw the schematics. If they even came close to what they promised, it's useable.”

“We need to in that direction anyway,” Spidey said. “Might as well take a look at it.”

Reluctantly, Steve nodded. There was a creeping sense of unease that he couldn't shake. Like there was a countdown that was clicking by somewhere they couldn't see, but that didn't slow it down. “Fine. We'll take a look. We ready?”

Everyone nodded, and Tony moved towards the front of the car, and Steve caught his elbow. He held out his hand. “Give me the keys. I'm driving.”

Tony gave him look that could only be called incredulous. “Steve. We're kind of in a rush here. And when we're in a rush, I drive. The streets are a mess, and this is my car, and I'm driving, because I'd like to get there before the ice lands us in another deep freeze.”

“There's no reason to drive like a maniac most days, Tony. You do, but there's no reason to do it,” Steve said, his voice tight. “Right now? We've got a reason. Give me the keys.”

“I'm going to assume I'm not driving, so I'm just gonna go- Yeah. I'll be in the backseat,” Spidey said, hopping over the top of the car.

Tony stared at Steve, eyes narrowed, and for a second, Steve really thought he was going to argue. But finally, with a faint wrinkle of his nose, he handed over the keys, reaching for the passenger door. “We're on a time limit here,” he said, and Steve shook his head.

“Backseat,” he said, in an undertone, because this wasn't going to go well. This was going to go so badly, and and he didn't care. “It's safer, Tony.”

“Really?” Tony asked, through gritted teeth. “Really, this is what we're doing? I don't-”

Steve leaned in. “Please,” he said, the word a bare breath of sound. “Please, I need you as safe as I can keep you, I need that so I can focus on getting us through the streets without crashing the damn car, Tony.”

“I already have a driver,” Tony pointed out, but he was turning away from the passenger seat, reaching for the back door. “And you're prettier than him, but he at least pretends to take orders.”

Steve released a breath that he hadn't been aware that he'd been holding, his shoulders slumping with relief. “Thank you,” he said, and Tony waved him off, sliding into the back seat beside Spidey, who was already buckling his seat belt.

“Comic shop, Jeeves,” he said, his voice a sardonic drawl. “While we're young?”

Steve's lips quirked up on one side, and he headed around the car, his steps solid and purposeful. “I'll see what I can do. Buckle up.”

He slipped behind the wheel and adjusted the seat and mirrors, checking with a quick glance to make sure that Tony had put on his shoulder belt. Spidey provided the address, and it was a neighborhood that he was familiar with, thankfully. “Hold on,” he said, starting the car up and easing it back out of the parking space. 

“I'll do my best not to panic,” Tony said, and he was checking over the pistol as they made their way out of the garage.

“I'd appreciate that.” Steve rolled his shoulders, checked the clutch, pressed down gently on the accelerator. “Not bad,” he mused, mostly to himself. He slid into the exit lane and triggered the door, waiting for it to slide up and out of the way.

“Not bad? Not BAD?” Tony said from the back seat. “This car is custom tuned by me, and it's probably going to stall out, you're driving it so slowaaaaaaaAAAAAAAH!” 

Steve hit the accelerator as soon as the grate came up far enough for him to see his way clear. He gave it gas, putting the full weight of the engine behind the acceleration, and this was definitely one of Tony's cars, this was a brutal piece of work. For as long as he had the concrete for traction, he used it, pushing them out fast, because the giants were still waiting in the street beyond. “Brace yourself,” he said, his voice calm, and he shifted gears, touching the brakes and pushing them sideways into a skid, the wheels of the car sliding over the ice before he caught the balance of the fishtail and pulled them out of it. He flicked the gear shift, and the car's wheels caught with a whine, shooting them forward.

There was a scream from one of the ice monsters, and Steve flicked a glance up, taking in speed and position, and he hit the gas. “Which way?” he asked, his voice calm.

“LOOK OUT!” Spidey screamed, and his hands were braced on the ceiling, his feet up on the back of the driver's seat.

“Got him,” Steve said, and he did, it was easy enough, he had the reflexes, and the intelligence, the experience and the knowledge of angles, speed and the physics of weight and acceleration. He felt the car slide, and tracked the distance to the next street. 

He wrenched the wheel to the right, timing the slide to push them around the impediment of a scrambling foot, and the ice monster lashed out with one huge arm, chasing the car as Steve accelerated. The claws tore through the air right in their wake, and the creature unbalanced, crashing to the pavement just as they pulled out of range. The ice shards flew in all directions, crashing against the back windshield, and Steve spared his passengers a glance, glad to find them both ducked and braced as the back window strained against the impact.

“Hold on,” he said again, his voice clipped, and he shifted gears, adjusting the gas and clutch and turning the wheel with enough force to send them skidding around the corner of the street, sliding across the ice and catching traction again just in time to push them forward. The engine strained for a second, and he whipped the car back and forth through a small forest of ice spikes, skimming so close in places that fragments of ice clattered to the roof. The gaps closed, and he had to slip them through a narrow pathway up onto the curb, between a building and a streetlight.

“MAILBOX!” Tony yelled, and Steve pushed them back onto the street with a bounce of the tires and a slight slide before the ice went rough enough for them to take off again.

“Good shocks,” Steve commented, and Tony was making noises like obscenities in half a dozen languages, or maybe it was calculations, numbers and Steve caught a hint of speed and acceleration, weight and it was like he was in a fight with the equations. “You okay, Tony?” Steve asked.

“ICE WOLF!”

“Wolves, plural,” Steve corrected, as the things started to clear the fog bank. And yes, those were wolves, glittering, translucent wolves, shedding snow as they moved. “Spidey, we've got a light pole coming up on the left, 200 yards, into a tight turn. Can you hit it, and hold it?”

“Is this a trick question? Please be a trick question. I would appreciate this being a trick question.”

“No.”

“Well, mother hugger.” Spider-Man was already rolling down the window. “Slow it down as much as you can, and how much pressure do I have to hold here?”

“A car and a few occupants.” Steve slowed them down, easing off the gas as the low, creeping ice beasts circled the center of the street.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.” The boy slid out the window, his legs curving with a flex of muscles, his feet planted on the lip of the window, his upper body leaning out into the street. “Tell me when, Cap.”

Tony was dropping his window too, half a dozen arrowheads pinched between his fingers. “Don't scratch the paint, Cap.”

“The paint job's going to be a mess, sorry. I'll try to avoid structural damage. On my mark.” Steve slipped his palm over the top of the gear shift. He sucked in a slow breath, and hit the gas.

The sudden acceleration seemed to catch the beasts off-guard, and they stilled, feet braced, bodies arched, and only a few scrambled to get out of the way of the speeding auto. He couldn't turn, couldn't risk it yet, not at this speed, on a street that had more in common with an ice rink than a race track. He crashed full on into one of them, and it flipped over the hood, disintegrating even as it rolled up the hood, over the windshield and passing over the roof in a tangle of shards.

Enraged, the pack went for them, and Spidey caught two, one after the other, full in the face with web, flipping them up and over into the street, and the crashed like icy bowling balls into their fellows. The wind whipped through the inside of the car, cold and hard, bringing tears to Steve's eyes, and he didn't flinch, didn't slow down. Tony armed an arrowhead and tossed it in the other direction. It exploded in a ball of flame that took out half a dozen and melted chunks off a couple more. Yipping and howling, they retreated, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough by a long shot.

Steve judged their speed and the narrow turn, and hit the clutch. “Now,” he said, and the word was barely out of his mouth when Spider-Man took the shot, nailing the lamp post with two webs and then he was leaning back into the car, his legs going straight. He pushed hard, his whole body arched, muscles straining in stark relief as the webbing pulled taut. Steve felt the car slow, the wheels ghosting over the ice as they swung hard to the left, almost clipping the sidewalk as they pushed around the corner.

A wave of wolves was right behind them, and Tony flipped an arrowhead out, detonating it on the second bounce and buying them some space. “Jesus, kid,” he said, his voice strained. “Let go!”

“Do it,” Steve snapped, and Spidey let the webbing loose with a strangled yelp, flopping back onto the seat. Tony snagged him in a one armed hold, wrenching him back up onto the seat as the car caught traction and shot down the street.

“Seat belt,” Steve said, and hit the gas. “We're almost there.” Something screamed on the street up ahead, and he heaved a faint sigh. “Keep your heads down.”

“I don't wanna be an Avenger,” Spider-Man said, one leg over the top of the seat and his face buried in Tony's chest.

“Hey, funny coincidence. Neither do I,” Tony told him, and Steve laughed.

*

Steve threw the car into park and turned the engine off. “Everyone okay?”

“No,” Spidey said. “I think I webbed myself.” There was a slightly hysterical giggle, and he keeled over sideways. “I totally webbed myself.” He threw his hands in the air. “WHEE! There is webbing EVERYWHERE!

Steve turned around, leaning his arm over the back of the seats. “I'll take care of the cleaning bill. Tony? You okay?”

Tony was breathing hard, his face flushed his hands latched onto the seats. “I have never been so turned on in my entire life,” he managed at last.

Steve stared at him. “What?” He felt his face heat, and he couldn't hold back a snort of disbelieving laughter. “Tony, what?”

“I am serious, I am-” Tony threw his hands in the air. “Do me. Do me right now, right here, let's go, I am on board with this, holy FUCK, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“So, I'm gonna just- I'm just gonna get out now,” Spidey said, suiting actions to words. “Okay, I'll meet you at the door, it's-” He leaned back down. “Enjoy yourself. Selves. Have a good time. Stay safe. I'll just- Go now.”

Steve was laughing, and he shouldn't, he really shouldn't, that was the stupidest reaction ever, and yet he couldn't seem to stop. “Really?” he managed. “Really, that's all it takes? I should've taken you driving, if that's all it takes, you are-” He let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel, his fingers still holding on with a death grip. “Tony, you are unbelievable.”

“Is that a no?” There was a thump as Tony's head fell back on the seat, and then a long, whining breath. “Jesus CHRIST, Steve, that was unbelievable. Where the fuck did you learn to DRIVE?”

“World war two,” Steve said. “There were Hydra tanks involved.” He opened the driver's side door. “Let's go, Tony.”

“You, car, me, naked, just putting that out there.” Tony wrenched the door open and rolled out of the car, snagging the quiver from the floor and tucking the gun into his pocket. “That is a standing offer, Rogers, I am just going to-”

“Stop,” Steve begged, because some part of his brain wanted to say yes, wanted to say yes before Tony changed his mind or took it back or did something and he wanted things that he hadn't even been aware of, all that long ago. Tony opened his mouth to say something, and Steve moved in, fast, pushing him against the side of the car with his weight and covering Tony's lips with his own.

The contact was a shock, adrenaline and heat and the sudden grip of Tony's hands on his jacket, yanking him close. He stumbled, his full weight bearing down on Tony. He wrenched his mouth away, stammering out an apology, and Tony pulled him back in. “God, yes,” he said, when they finally broke apart, his breath coming hard and fast. “That, all of that, yes, please.” His hands fell to Steve's belt, and he gave it a sharp tug.

“City, everyone, gotta-” Steve shook his head, hard, trying to ignore the throb of WANT that threatened to overwhelm everything else.

“Yeah, I know.” Tony kissed him, and this one was soft, almost gentle as his mouth brushed Steve's, light and teasing, his breath an almost physical touch on Steve's parted lips. His hands flat on Steve's belly, then his chest, then his shoulders as his fingers slid up Steve's body, he gave a light push. “C'mon. You need a shield, and the kid needs something more than a goddamn spandex body suit.” 

“I don't know,” Steve gritted out, as he moved his body away, one painful step at a time, “the cold's exactly what I need right now.” Tony started laughing, his head falling forward against Steve's shoulder, his forehead just brushing the fabric of his suit jacket. There was heat there, and there was something intimate about the gesture, Tony's hands fisted in the fabric of his jacket, his forehead resting against Steve's shoulder, his breath a cloud of steam that wreathed them both. Steve slid a hand up the length of his back, Tony's jacket sleek and soft beneath his fingers.

“Later,” Tony said, and Steve moved away, step by painful step. Tony's eyes were hot, his pupils dilated with something that was becoming more and more familiar, more and more intimate. He huffed out a breath in a laugh that was anything but amused. “Much later.”

“Let's find our team,” Steve said, his lips twitching. 

“If we must.” Tony pushed away from the car and readjusted the quiver on his shoulder. “Hey, kid!” he called, and Steve tilted his head, watching for any of the ice beasts. For the time being, it looked like their little alcove had gone unnoticed.

“Back here.” Spidey popped his head around the corner, but from the back of the building. “Shipping entrance. Back here.” His posture somehow seemed curious. “You're done already?”

“Shut the fuck up, kid, really, what are you, the relationship police?” Tony grinned as he stalked towards the back of the store, Steve watching his back. And maybe, just a glance or two at his ass. Not that he'd admit that to anyone else.

He was admitting it to himself, that was progress, wasn't it?

“Standards,” Spidey said.

“Watch it, kid,” Tony said. 

“Just saying.” The teen bounced up the wall, leading the way to the back. “He can do better than you.”

“Well, duh,” Tony drawled. “Let's stop discussing the obvious, shall we? Shield.”

“Door's back here,” Spidey said, cheerful about it. He scrambled up the side of the building, arms and legs churning along as he went up and down the brick.

“That will never cease to be damn creepy,” Tony pointed out.

“Says the guy who lives with a God, a man from the forties, and a Gamma irradiated scientist,” Spidey pointed out.

“Not to mention the SHIELD agents,” Tony said. “But that's less creepy, more poor life choices.”

“How's that working out for you?” 

“I had to buy an insurance company to get a policy,” Tony said. He crouched down in front of the door. “Alarm system. Give me a sec.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “This won't take me long.”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, stepping up behind him, watching the end of the alley for any sign of movement.

“Breaking in,” Tony told him, barely sparing him a glance. “Unless you'd like to set off the alarms?”

Steve gritted his teeth. “No.”

"I can't believe our lives have come to this," Tony said, and he should not sound so cheerful about that; Steve was going to need to have a talk with him about that. "You're sure about this?" he asked Spidey without looking in the kid's direction. 

"Yes. I, uh, I have knowledge of this particular, uh-" He stumbled to a stop, and Steve flicked a glance up at him.

"You shop here," Steve filled in, trying not to smile, he really did try.

"I shop here," Spidey admitted.

"I'm breaking into a comic book shop to steal a replica of Captain America's shield," Tony said. He shoved his phone in his pocket. "We're clear, this security system is absolute shit. Really. Goddamn."

"We're not stealing it," Steve said, his jaw gritted tight. "I'll leave money to pay for it."

"Breaking into a comic book shop to make an unauthorized purchase without the assistance of the staff," Tony corrected himself. "Gotcha. Thin line there, in terms of legality, just so you're aware. Let's go." He waved a hand at the door. “Sorry, we left the ones who are good at lock picking at home, so brute force is pretty much our only option right now.”

Steve gritted his teeth and gave the door a sharp kick. It popped free, swinging open, and Spidey hung upside down to peer inside. “Security system-” he started.

“Closed circuit recording,” Tony said, striding past him. “And they're going to figure out we were here, in that we're stealing-”

“Not stealing,” Steve said.

“We're purchasing stuff. Speaking of, go find a sweatshirt or something, we're not making another stop, and you're making me cold, just looking at you,” Tony told Spidey, who bounced down to the ground, off the wall, and into the back of the shop. “Stop doing that.”

“I have a lot of nervous energy, in that you make me nervous.” He pointed. “Collectables are up at the front, I'll go check clothing, there's some racks-” He was still talking as he left hearing range, and Steve shook his head.

“You shouldn't get him wound up like that,” he told Tony.

“Wound up? I'm not winding him up.” Tony headed for the front of the store, Steve right on his heels. “I'm not doing anything, I don't even know where his key is, if I could unwind him, I would, he's like, he's all spasms and loud mouth and too smart for his own goddamn good, what the hell is wrong with that kid? He's all over the map, at this rate-”

“Yeah, we don't know anyone like that,” Steve said, peering into the glass cases as they moved forward.

“Was that a parallel? Are you drawing parallels? Because, no, do not do that, that is unacceptable, Rogers, you have no idea what you're talking about, and that is not acceptable.” Tony stabbed a finger in Steve's general direction. “Don't be bitchy, I am having a difficult night right now, and you are being bitchy.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve said, not really paying attention. “Tony, here.” He crouched down, looking through the glass at a life-sized replica of his shield, gleaming solid and bright under the low light.

Tony back tracked, and took a quick look before he jumped the counter. Steve followed him the more conventional way, walking around, as Tony jimmied the case open in about five seconds, mumbling under his breath the whole time. He stepped out of the way so that Steve could grab the shield. "Huh," he said, looking over Steve's shoulder. "That's actually nicer than I thought it would be."

"Yeah." Steve hefted the thing, and it was heavy, it was very heavy, but it was solid and beautifully crafted. The balance and structure was right, the paint job matching the real thing exactly. He slid it onto his arm and flexed, checking to see how much extra effort he had to exert to use it. Not as much as he would've thought, his body adjusted to it without much difficulty.

Tony ran his fingers over the surface, eyes narrowed. He flicked an index finger against the metal, his nose wrinkling at the resulting sound. "It won't hold up to the same rough treatment as yours," he said after an instant of tracing the edges. "No way. But it should be an adequate replacement in most normal combat situations. How's it feel?"

"Heavy." His shield had a presence. He'd never been able to explain that to anyone else, Steve wondered if anyone else could feel it. But it was almost like the metal was in a constant state of vibration, like it had a pulse, fast and sharp as the beating of a hummingbird's wings. This thing sat, inert and empty, still against his arm. But it might keep them alive, provide them with a measure of protection, a measure of recognition. He ran the fingers of his other hand around the edge, testing the smooth metal. "If I throw it, it's not coming back."

"One off," Tony agreed. "Save that as a last resort, okay?"

Steve shifted it to his back, and the weight was comforting, even though it was much more than he was used to. "Spider-Man, you ready?"

"No. This is, well, this is kind of awkward," Spidey said, poking his head around the corner of the aisle. "They're all, like, uh, you guys, it's Avengers sweatshirts, so, well, that's weird. That's weird right? Yeah, that's really, well, that's weird."

"Really?" Tony grinned. "They have a Captain America hoodie in my size?"

"I think so, I'll check."

"You've got to be kidding me," Steve said to Tony, who shrugged. He was grinning though.

"What? I need a sweatshirt. It's cold out there."

"Got one." Spidey bounced over a display, clutching a sweatshirt patterned after Steve's Captain America costume. He tossed it to Tony, who held it up. Despite the death look that Steve was leveling at him, Tony slipped his arms into the sleeves. He pulled the hood up like a cowl.

"What do you think?" he asked Steve.

"It's embarrassing," Steve told him.

"It's nice and warm, I know you want me to be nice and warm. C'mon, kid, let's go," he said to Spider-Man, who was still considering two sweatshirts, holding them up at arms length.

"This is weird," he repeated. "I don't know which one to-"

"Just take them both," Tony said, zipping up the Cap hoodie. Steve could feel the flush in his cheeks, partially from embarrassment and partially from something that felt uncomfortably like possessiveness. Because that was nice. Tony in, well, his shirt, that was... Kind of hot. 

Great, he was a pervert. What a wonderful time to be discovering that. When he couldn't do a darn thing about it. He shook his head, trying to focus.

"They're really expensive," Spider-Man was saying to Tony.

"Are you kidding me? Really? Please be kidding me right now. Just take them! I'll leave the Black AmEx. Just- Let's go!"

"Thor or-"

"Take them all," Tony told him. "Get a bag, put them in the bag, I'll leave a credit card, put them in the car." He pointed. "I can afford it. Go! City's in danger, c'mon.”

“Thor it is!” Spidey was pulling it on even as he scrambled for the door, and he was out before either of them could yell after him. 

“You weigh like, ninety pounds!” Tony called, and he was digging a credit card from his billfold, slipping it into the empty register drawer. He slammed it shut. “Outfitted, paid for, let's go.”

Steve shouldered his shield, and scribbled “Sorry, Steve Rogers,” on the register tape. Tony was grinning at him as he came out from behind the counter. “Go,” he said, and they went.

Tony reset the alarm, and Steve paced to the end of the alley. “Spider-Man?” he called, pitching his voice low. He ignored the spike of anxiety, sharp and hard, there was no movement anywhere that he could see, up above him on the sides of the buildings, or out on the street, as far out as he could see. Biting back a curse, he headed up the alley, pacing the distance off as quickly as he could. “Spider-Man.”

There was the faintest sound of footsteps behind him as he leaned out around the edge of the building. “He pull a runner?” Tony asked, his voice soft.

“I don't know.” It didn't make sense, it didn't match what Steve would've thought about the boy, but the street was empty, save for the occasional monstrous ice form pushing its way through the waist high spikes. Steve caught Tony with a hand flat on his chest, pushing him back from the street, tucking him back against the wall, as one passed close, spikes like rattling clumps of fur scraping the ground.

“If you go out there without me, I will be pissed,” Tony said, his voice flat and calm.

“Tony, I've got to-”

“You do what you have to do,” Tony said, his fingers clamping down on Steve's wrist. “But there are consequences, Rogers. Be aware of that.”

Before Steve could figure out how to pick his way through that emotional minefield, there was a thump as Spider-Man dropped into place behind them, his body in a low crouch. “We have a problem,” he said, and his voice was small, strained.

“You okay?” Steve asked, looking at the street again.

“I am, but- The Baxter building's gone.”

There was a moment of silence, and Tony was the first to break it. “What do you mean 'gone?'”

“Gone.” Spidey was breathing hard. “I didn't- I didn't go over there, but I know where it should be, and it's not there. There's a hole where it should be.”

Steve looked at Tony, and Tony looked at him, his eyes dark and flat. “Are you sure?” Steve asked.

“I kind of depend on knowing where buildings are to avoid becoming, you know, road pizza,” Spidey said, his voice strained. “And I-” His voice broke. “I know Johnny. I know where the Baxter Building is, and I should be able to see if from here, and I can't, because it's not there!”

Steve sucked in a breath. “We do-”

“How about Stark Tower?”

Steve froze. Behind him, Tony shifted. “Stark Tower's not far beyond the Baxter Building. And it's lit. Even with the fog, you should be able to-” The kid was silent, crouched low, his arms wrapped around his upthrust knees, head down. Tony took an audible breath. “Not there.”

“I don't know.”

Steve heard the words and he couldn't quite understand them. “Avengers Tower-”

“Let's not-” Tony was already moving for the end of the street. “Fuck this. Let's go.”

Steve grabbed his arm, and Tony jerked away, rage twisting his face for a second, and Steve didn't react, didn't do anything, just stared him down. “Together. As a team.”

“Our team is gone,” Tony said, and it was too loud, too sharp in the silence. "Where the fuck are the people, Steve? Why haven't we seen anyone? We haven't seen anyone since we left the restaurant, there is no one here! It's us, and the ice, and a bird or two, but where is everyone? Our team is gone, we're going back home to find-" He broke off with a strangled growl.

“We don't know that.” Steve looked at Spider-Man, still curled low to the ground. “Are you with us?” The boy looked up, and Steve managed a tight smile. “We need you right now.”

There was a pause, only for a second. “Yeah.” He pushed himself to his feet, and Steve gave him a nod. “Where are we going?”

“Home. As fast as we can.”

*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this, it's proven difficult and I have been sick! Mea culpa!
> 
> At this point, certain individuals from the Marvel universe are going to start putting in appearances. They have not been used/cannot be used by the MCU, and therefore, I'm doing my best to build off of their 616 existences/backgrounds but update them to fit into the MCU.
> 
> Therefore, this is my interpretation of these characters. 
> 
> I apologize in advance if this is not how you would like them portrayed in the MCU. However, if you're wedded to the comics continuity and have no interest in seeing those characters adapted for another verse, this is not going to be the story for you. Sorry, but I'm trying something here, and I hope very much I don't regret it.

They didn't make it far. 

“Is it just me,” Spider-Man said, his tone conversational, even as he put a fist through an icy limb, “or are there a lot more of these things than there were when we started this?”

“There are a hell of a lot more.” Tony had his back up against a wall, literally, as he stripped an arrowhead with both hands and his teeth. The guns didn't really do that much, not against the sheer bulk of the ice. Unless they could hit a thin part, a flaw, or take out a leg and let gravity do the rest, for the most part, the bullets just disappeared into the icy forms. Tony was trying to get as much use out of Clint's arrow heads as he could, and that meant taking apart a few of the explosive tips while they had a few seconds to breathe. Tony spit out a chunk of plastic and a curse almost with one breath. “Remind me to fix this later,” he mumbled, not really paying any attention to either of them or the monsters. For now, Steve and Spider-Man could handle it, and he knew it.

“I'll remind you. Ya know, if we LIVE,” Spidey said. In a flicker swift movement, he bounced backwards, landed on his hands, flipped to ricochet off the wall, and slammed feet first into a slow, lumbering hulk. “Which would be nice. I like living. Oh, man, I cannot tell you how much I like living.”

“Focus,” Steve told him, not that it really seemed necessary. But as he took two more down, he turned his attention to the far end of the street. “We've got incoming,” he said, which was the understatement of the year. There had to be a couple dozen of them, and they were massing, clearly coming together as a group, shambling and unfocused as it was, to attack.

“Well, fuck,” Tony said, and there was no heat to the words, they were all too tired for heat. “Cap? Call it.”

Steve scanned the landscape, his teeth gritted. “Spidey, can you get us a bit of ariel recon?”

“On it!” With a bounce and a twist, he was airborne, swinging up and through the narrow gaps between the buildings, the speed and grace enough to stop Steve's heart. 

Wrenching his attention back to the ground level, he glanced back, wondering if they should just give ground and reverse course, see if there wasn't another way they could find to get them through. “Tony, is it just me, or is the ice getting thicker?”

Tony didn't even look up. “It's getting thicker. Feels like it's closing off behind us.” He popped a mechanical bit free of the framework of the arrow and tucked it between his teeth. “Fast,” he slurred, his fingers still working, but his eyes were on the other end of the street.

Spidey landed next to them. “Uh, we may be surrounded,” he said, his voice a little breathless. “In that they've filled in behind us, I would not recommend retreat, and going forward's gonna be tough unless we can clear the ranks a bit. If we can take care of a bunch of them, we should be able to break the line, push forward for another block or so before they can regroup.”

Steve studied the ice creatures that were gathering. A lot of them were big. Very big. “Let's go,” he said, and the others fell into step behind him, running flat out, cutting across the deserted street. He dodged ice blocks and scrambled around the remains of their attackers, avoiding the main splash of a streetlight.

The alley was narrow, long, and it dead ended on a tall brick wall. One of the buildings had a massive, heavy iron fire escape running from the second floor to the roof. The ground was relatively clear, but the walls were solid, strong, the shadows closing in dark and heavy as he moved away from the street. It wasn't the best plan, but right now, it was the only one he had. He nodded. “We'll draw them in here.”

“Trapped like rats in a box, wonderful!” Spidey said. “This seems, uh, inadvisable.”

“They're getting bigger. We can control the fight here. Tony, you can take the high ground, I'll take the low, and Spidey can move between as the fight calls for it. If it comes down to it, we have one advantage that they don't. They don't go up,” Steve said. He studied the fire escape. “And we can. If it comes down to it, we will, and they can't.”

“You mean they haven't yet,” Tony pointed out. But he jumped up, caught the escape's ladder and tested it with a quick jerk. “You mean to pull them in and pick them off in smaller numbers.”

“The ones we're worried about, they won't be able to move more than one on one in here. No chance of being flanked or ganged up on, with their stability, they'll do more damage to each other than us if they try it.” Steve sucked in a breath, because this was not something he liked, not at all. He glanced at Spidey, who was exploring the walls. “If we get overwhelmed,” he said to the boy, “can you get him out?”

“No,” Tony said.

“What, carry him up? Yeah. I can carry both of you,” he said, and Steve waved him off. 

“If this gets bad, if I give the order-”

“Fuck that,” Tony snapped, and Steve ignored him.

“I need you to get him out of there.”

“I can carry you both,” Spidey said, as if Steve was a particularly slow student. “I think you're missing that point, that I can, in fact-”

“I'll need to hold the chokepoint,” Steve said, and Tony went ballistic.

“You try giving that order,” he snarled. “You even THINK it, Cap, and I will know, and I will-” He sucked in a breath, his face bone white. “I am not leaving you to die.”

“If it comes down to it,” Steve started, and Spider-Man interrupted him.

“He's not going to go,” Spidey pointed out, his hands flexing at his sides. “Or, more accurately, he's going to fight me the whole way, and he's strong enough that that's going to cause problems. If I don't want to drop him, I'll have to knock him out.”

“Don't hurt him,” Steve snapped out, and immediately regretted it. He took a deep breathe, letting the cold air clear his head. “Just- Get him clear.”

“Or, you know, you could get your head out of your ass and just let me take you both,” Spidey said. “Because I don't see him going without you, and if I have to chase you, I will be annoyed, and when I'm annoyed, I web first and ask questions when you're hanging upside down and drooling into your own nose.” He paused. “I'm just saying. That's what usually happens.”

Steve stared at him, caught for a moment between frustration and resignation. Spidey shrugged. “The more you fight,” he said, coiling low to the ground, “the greater the chance he's going to get hurt trying to get to you, because I don't think he's going to go without you.” He paused. “Actually, I don't think I am, either.” With a flex of his legs, he jumped, and caught the building with flattened fingers. “Gonna go do a quick check,” he said, and he was up and gone before Steve could find another argument.

“You know,” Tony said, his voice tense, “I think I like that kid.” Putting his back to Steve, he glanced up at the fire escape. He jumped, and Steve caught his hips, boosting him easily up. Tony ignored the help. “I've been listening to you preach about teammates and unity and loyalty for months now; I don't know why you're shocked that it actually took. You've got no one to blame but yourself, Rogers.”

“Tony, I can't do this if I'm worried about you,” Steve said, his attention split between the far end of the alley, and Tony's progress in getting himself the high ground. Steve watched out of the corner of his eye as Tony checked out the fire escape, testing the bolts and the rusted railings for stability. “If we're not going to be able to turn them back, I need the two of you to carry on.”

“We'll go as a team,” Tony said, shrugging the quiver off of his shoulder. “Or we won't go at all.”

“I will not lose you again,” Steve said, and the words came out on a shout that startled him. The force, the rage, came out of nowhere, and it was too loud, too sharp, too raw. The words echoed in the narrow space, and he swallowed, his jaw working. “I can't.” His voice was strained on the small, easy words. “Don't ask me to, Tony, because I can't.”

There was a long moment of silence. Then the sound of weight shifting, making the metal creak. “Steve.” He glanced back, and Tony was leaning over the edge of the railing, one hand outstretched. His eyes were steady, dark and calm. “I won't. I'm not going anywhere, Cap.” His lips kicked up. “You're the one trying to get rid of me.”

Steve reached up, catching Tony's hand. “Tony-”

“I'm not leaving you,” he said. His fingers tightened on Steve's, the grip hard and sharp. “Don't ask me to do that. I'll be fine. I'm tougher than I look.”

The contact was calming, somehow. The real and firm grip of Tony's fingers on his, the familiar texture of his skin, the flex of his bones in Steve's grip. He found he was reluctant to let go. “I need you safe.”

Tony shrugged. “I'm safest when I'm with you.” His head tipped forward. “Right?”

Steve squeezed his fingers, and felt Tony's thumb sweep across the back of his hand. Tony's hand was cold, and he spared a second to wonder how much longer they could sustain this. “Stay up there,” he said, and it was an order. He was pretty sure he'd pay for that later, but he couldn't be bothered to care right now.

Tony arched an eyebrow, but his mouth kicked up on one side. “You got it, Cap.” He pulled his fingers free and brushed a lock of Steve's hair away from his forehead. “You try to do this on your own, and I'm voting against you in the next Avengers' Popularity Poll.”

“I'll take that risk,” Steve said, as Spider-Man tumbled back to the street. 

“We've got company,” he said. “Uninvited. Didn't bring so much as a Jell-O salad. Let's pretend we're not home.”

“When did you move in?” Tony asked him.

“Oh, that's gratitude for you,” Spidey groused. “Sure, fine, use me to fight your battles, then kick me to the curb without even so much as a cup of coffee. I see how this is going to be.”

“I'll give you a Starkbucks gift certificate,” Tony said. He was getting things in order, even as the shadows fell heavy across the entrance of the alley.

“Excellent! My biggest gain since becoming a costumed hero!”

“Here they come,” Steve said, pulling their attention around. “Cut the chatter.” The shadows at the end of the alley solidified into a solid black mass, and Steve set his feet. “Hold your ground,” he said to Spidey.

“I will, but it appears to be crumbling beneath my itty-bitty feet,” Spidey pointed out, just as the first of the monsters forced its way into the alley, crashing forward with a roar.

Steve slammed his shield into the face of the first ice monster, crumbling it to chunks, and swept the legs out from under the one that was right behind it, bringing the edge of the shield down on its neck, severing it. The head bounced away, and the body fell apart. Gaining an few feet of breathing room, Steve lunged forward, putting the force of his rush behind the hard surface of his shield.

And just like that, the alley was full of ice, alive and kicking. Steve gritted his teeth and met the attack head on, keeping tabs on the other two without even thinking about it; it was second nature by now, making sure they were on their feet and fighting, even as he plowed through opponent after opponent.

Above him, Tony let out a cackle, his body balanced easily on the rickety metal landing as he did his best to keep the main mass of the attackers back. Judging by the rapid-fire assault of swears that were raining down, he was still less than happy with Clint's weaponry. As Steve glanced up, he flung an arrowhead in a long, hard arc, detonating it as it crashed down into the bodies at the mouth of the alley. The ice creatures were knocked back, crashing into each other and falling to the pavement as splintered hulks. One lunged up with a roar, and Tony swung the bow like a bat, clipping it on the side of the head and pushing off. It fell to the alley and cracked. Tony grinned down at it, and Steve, his hair in wild disarray, his shoulders rising and falling at a quick clip. "Fuck these guys, seriously, fuck 'em," he said to Steve. "Behind you, Cap."

Steve turned and intercepted the lunging creature, moving fast and low, legs a blur as it went for Steve's throat. Steve slammed his shield off of the thing's face, sending it rattling into the brick wall. "Thanks," he said, as he kicked, up and through the thing's body, and it fell apart at the force of the blow. Spidey swung past, catching his eye.

The kid was fast. He was extremely fast, and smart about it, but if he'd had a day of fight training, Steve would eat his boots. He was getting by on speed, on luck. On being able to move quicker and hit harder than what was coming at him, but if he came up against anything with actual combat experience, he was going to be in a lot of trouble.

Right now, fighting against things that were basically feral, instinctive attackers, he could hold his own, his body moving with the speed and force of a whip, nothing scientific about it, nothing controlled, but almost... Steve's attention was drawn by something low and fast and sharp on all edges, charging in at him with a rattle of feet and legs. He brought the shield up, all he had time to do, as the thing lunged.

A hunk of webbing caught it on the side of the head and without even turning, Spidey yelled, “Bounce him!”

Steve brought the shield up, with all the force he could muster, driving the curve of the metal into the thing's belly. He shoved up, hard, and Spider-Man pulled, using his effort to sling-shot the dang thing through the air and into the wall of the building. It hit with enough force to reduce it to shards, and without even pausing, Spidey was spinning to meet another rush.

“Where are these things COMING from?” Tony yelled, letting a net arrowhead fly. It trapped two attacking wolves together, and they clattered to the pavement in a panicked mass.

“You're attracting them. Because, as always, Stark, you make entirely too much noise.”

The words came as if from all directions at once. Not spoken, just there, and Steve jerked, surprised and braced for another attack.

“Let's see if we can't clear the air a bit, shall we?”

A single point of light came to life in the center of the alley, like a match being struck, sharp and uneven. For an instant, it just hovered there, a will o' the wisp that glowed in the shadows. 

Like a flashbulb going off in the dark, it exploded. Steve brought the shield up, the movement instinctive and burned into his muscles, but it didn't matter. The light passed over him, through him, with no more than a faint sensation of warmth. A circling wolf, braced to leap, was caught by the expanding light and simply dissolved into nothingness.

Steve stared, shocked, as the light wiped the ice monsters from the alley, and the street beyond, before fading into nothingness, plunging them back into darkness. It took an instant for him to blink his eyes back into focus, and then it was as if nothing had happened. 

“Well, fuck,” Tony muttered.

Something moved, in the shadows of the alley, and Steve turned towards it, his feet braced. Tony had a pistol in his hand, the bow slung over his shoulder, and he brought the gun up, aiming without a flinch. Even as Spider-man's head tipped to the side. "What the-" he managed, as something seemed to form in the depths of the darkness, a sense of movement at its core, felt more than seen. There was the lightest sound, like a single foot coming down on the concrete of the ground, toe first, grace and balance and the shifting of something with a solid weight behind it.

“There. That's better.”

The shadow seemed to stretch, pushing forward into the light, and a tall, slim form emerged, threads of darkness trailing behind him like mist. It fell, it floated to the ice-bound pavement, curling there in smokey puddles before dissipating entirely. Wisps curled around a pair of highly polished wingtips, and clung the tailored fabric of his pants. A black coat shifted along the length of his body, perfectly fitted, elegant and understated. But as he moved forward, it parted, and the lining was an impossible darkness. Stars marked the visible emptiness, a flicker here in there in that captured night sky, and then the coat fell back into place, and was nothing more than a coat again.

A coat held in place by a button at the throat, a button like a single, all-seeing eye, glowing against the red scarf tucked around the neck, forcing the high collar of the coat up to frame the face like angled bat's wings.

The newcomer smiled, a perfect white smile beneath fathomless eyes, dark eyes to match dark hair and the emptiness hidden in the lining of his coat. A universe, carried and controlled, unseen beneath the facade of a pleasant, handsome man, touched with white at his temples, sparks of white that set his eyes aglow. "Good evening," Doctor Stephen Strange said, gloved fingers flicking away the last of the shadows that clung to his coat. "What, exactly, have you done this time, Stark?"

*

“Strange,” Tony gritted out. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Wondered how this night could get any worse, and here, have my answer. Fan-fucking-tastic.” He checked the mouth of the alley again, but whatever Strange had done, it seemed to be blocking any further attacks for the moment. Tony checked the gun over and started gathering the remains of his weaponry. “We didn't ask for help, David Copperfield.”

“I understand. Next time, I'll allow you to handle the situation on your own. Possibly by dying,” Stephen said, unbuttoning his coat. With an elegant gesture, he reached into the folds, fishing a pocket watch from some place that Tony absolutely did not want to think about. He flicked it open, his eyes narrowing. He heaved a visible sigh, and something sent a shiver over Tony's nerve endings. “In deference to your delicate sensibilities, of course.”

Spider-Man spoke up, his voice at an odd pitch. “So, am I the only really creeped out here? Because my brain is going haywire here, is he a threat? Cause he seems threatening? I'm just saying?”

“He's not a threat,” Steve said, leaning back against the brick wall, bracing his shoulders there. His hands braced on his thighs, he managed a nod for Strange before he let his head fall forward. His breath was a pale cloud around his face, a little fast, a little pained.

“Cap's too trusting. He's a threat,” Tony told Spider-Man. “Web him.”

“Please don't,” Strange said. “You have no idea how astronomical my dry cleaning bills are as it is, I really don't need any help in that area.”

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice not amused, and Tony sighed, kicking his way down the ladder and hopping down the last bit of distance to the ground. He was pleased that he didn't fall on his ass; there were ice shards EVERYWHERE by this point.

“Fine. He's on our side. For now.” Tony nodded at the kid. “Dr. Stephen Strange, meet Spider-Man. Spidey, Doctor Strange. He traffics in magic.”

“Which is what we need right now,” Steve pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, that's true. Doesn't mean he's not a threat. He's a threat to the laws of physics,” Tony said, flexing his fingers, wishing for gloves. 

“So are you, Stark,” Strange said, a faint smile around his lips.

“Different set of circumstances, and you know it,” Tony said, stabbing a finger in his direction. “I wine and dine the laws of physics. Whisper sweet nothings and take them dancing, subtly twist the boundaries and leave everyone happy. You just fuck them over.”

“I've lost the point of this metaphor,” Stephen said, grinning out right now. “If there ever was one.”

“It's a bit labored,” Tony admitted. “It made more sense in my head.”

“And I thought I was a nerd with a mouth problem,” Spidey mumbled, making everyone look in his direction. “Aaaaaaand I'm just going to shut up now.”

“Good choice, kid.” Tony aimed a glare in his direction, but there was no force behind it.

Steve shook his head. “Glad to see you,” he said, offering Strange a hand, and Strange took it with a smile. “Please tell me you know what's going on, because this situation has us completely in the dark.”

“I've figured out more than a bit. Most of it's supposition, I fear, but this caught me a bit off guard. We should have a few minutes,” Strange said as he glanced towards the street. “As you've likely found out, the city is slowly becoming encased in ice, but it does appear to be only the city. I've had contact with those outside, and they confirmed, New York is the sole target, but efforts to reach us haven't been successful.”

“None of our calls are going through,” Tony said, his hand going to his pocket, where his phone was still cycling. He risked a glance at the face, but there was still no connection to Jarvis.

“Neither are most of mine, though I'm not using a cell.” Strange's mouth kicked up on one side. “I've found a few gaps in the spell that's bearing down on us, but it's not easy to manipulate. But the majority of the world outside appears to be unaffected. They're just not able to get in, any more than we can get out.”

“What about the city?” Spidey asked. “And, uh, the boroughs?”

Strange paused. “Mostly, it's just the ice. The city's in deep freeze. But there was a targeted attack, at the same time as the ice descended. A handful of locations, of buildings, just disappeared. The Baxter Building is gone. So is SHIELD headquarters, and Xavier's Institute. And Avengers Tower,” he said at last. His eyes flicked up. “Someone is learning from Loki's mistakes.”

“Meaning what?” Steve asked, and it was good that Steve was asking the question, because Tony couldn't, Tony was clutching at the wall with fingers that wanted to bleed against the rough face of the brick. The sense of loss was astonishing, like the entirety of his being was wiped clear. They'd suspected, but to have it confirmed was horrifying. He sucked in a breath, and it hurt, it was agonizing how much the simple act of taking in air laid him bare.

“The first attacker was on the people most likely to stop the sorcerer, before they had time to present an obstacle.” Strange crouched down, eyes narrowing on the ice covered ground. “One moment, maybe I can-” His fingers swirled in the air, a simple circle, and the ice gathered, seeming to form itself into something familiar. He whispered something, words that raised the hairs on the back of Tony's neck, and a map of New York City rose from the pavement.

“Officially uncomfortable with this situation,” Spidey said, and he was already halfway up the wall, feet and fingers behind him as he clung face out, a little ball of scientific anxiety.

“Don't make me invoke something with eight legs, it might catch you accidentally,” Strange said, his voice velvet smooth. His eyes glowed as he reached out, marking locations with a flick of his fingers. “Baxter Building, Avengers Tower, SHIELD here on the island. The issue is-” He pulled his hand back, his fingers dancing, and a dozen other pinpricks of light came to life. “There were twelve other buildings and structures that disappeared at the same time. Not centers of government, not people of any importance, so... Why?”

He leaned back on his heels. “The spell was clumsy. Uncontrolled. The power is borrowed, or, more likely, stolen, and it picked up a bunch of outliers along with the intended targets.”

“But what-” Steve started his eyes flicking over the map.

“Not certain. But if I had to guess? The spell locked down on objects of power. Magical items. I'd warned both Richards and Fury that keeping things like that on site without the proper safeguards was like painting a bull's eye on their backs and handing teenagers eggs. Xavier had a few on site, as well.”

“Fuck you,” Tony said, stabbing a finger in his direction. “No way. No magic in my tower. Not a chance, there are rules.”

Strange gave him a vaguely pitying look. “Tony...”

“Mjolnir,” Steve said, and Tony resisted the urge to kick the magical little ice city. 

“Thor, fucking Thor,” Tony gritted out. “I cannot-” His teeth clicked together. “Fine. So these other locations?”

“When the net closed, something, or someone, there got them caught up. Little fish along with the big. The intent was to take out anyone that could be a threat, but some of us slipped through the holes.” Strange stared down at the ice map, his face twisted into a frown. “Because this targeted locations, not individuals, and people don't always stay where you think they will. The whole thing was clumsy. Unsophisticated. And very, very dangerous.”

“How'd you get missed, then?” Tony asked him. “If this was attacking locations with magic, aren't you Grand Central Station for that kind of junk?”

“My sanctum is the magical equivalent of Fort Knox,” Strange said. “Not completely invulnerable, but my shields are certainly enough to dissuade such a random attack.”

“How about the people?” Steve asked, and the silence was brittle, sharp.

Strange met his eyes. “If the intent was to weed out resistance, we should be concerned. However, most magic users have a...” His eyebrows arched. “Let's call it a weakness for magical items. They are rare enough that taking the chance at harming or destroying them is not one many would risk. 

“That being the case, if they want to salvage the magical items? Then the buildings were likely pulled out of our reality, our plane of existence, intact. The spell is still in process, and likely taking a lot of our opponent's time and energy. I doubt they've had any time to deal with their new guests, but we need to move fast. I don't doubt that their hospitality is not something we should depend on.”

“We have to move fast,” Steve said, and Strange nodded.

“The faster, the better.” He waved a hand over the mini cityscape. It crumbled and dissolved in an instant. “Borrowed power,” he said, eyes staring at the remains, “is dangerous. Stolen power is worse. The wielder doesn't know the flow of the magic. The dangerous spots that hold the undertow. The spots where the stream splits, the hidden rocks.” He shook his head. “They don't know what they're doing, and even worse, they don't know that. They think they're in control. If we don't stop them before this reaches its conclusion, I fear the magic will turn on its wielder, exact a very real revenge for that lack of control.”

“And we care about this, why?” Spidey asked. “'Cause it seems like it would solve a lot of our problems.”

“Because if the magic burns itself up in the act, or reverts too hard, and too fast, to its true owner, we may lose the ability to undo this. Loosing magic's like pulling a plug on a barrel. Power doesn't just disappear, it must go somewhere. And if you don't control where, you won't enjoy the results. And it's nearly impossible to get that cork back in once the flow's started. Our best bet is to keep it from reaching its crescendo and subvert it, reversing the intent and returning things to normal.”

“And how do we do that?” Steve asked.

Strange paused, dark eyes flicking up as he considered. “Hell if I know,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “I'm doing my best to dig my way through this. But my usual...” His voice trailed away. “Partner, shall we say, is currently out of touch. She so loves to do that when it is most inconvenient. I've contacted another practitioner that I know, but due to her age, she cannot make the trip. She's sending her protege. Hopefully, with someone to complete the circle, I'll be able to trace out malefactor.”

Steve nodded. “Can we help?”

“Any assistance you can provide would be of an information gathering sort. If you could return to Avengers tower, we might be able to find out more. Your home appears to be the epicenter. The greatest impact was there, and you might yet find out something of use.” He was staring at the remains of the map. “Someone wanted Thor. Or Mjolnir.”

“The rest of us are chopped liver, I suppose?” Tony asked, rolling his shoulders. Magic or not, he didn't like standing still with those THINGS out there, waiting, hovering just beyond the edge of the alley. 

“The rest of you,” Strange said, his voice flat, “were supposed to be home.” His eyes cut up, pinning Tony with a basilisk glare. “Thursday. You should've been caught as well. I was surprised when I realized you were still in play. I'm likely not the only one. Someone knows your habits.”

“My fault. I had a date,” Tony said.

Strange blinked. Looked at him. Looked at Steve, who gave a little nod. “Ah. Congratulations,” Strange said to Tony. To Steve, he added, “My deepest sympathies.”

“Hey!” Tony said, but Steve was chuckling behind one fisted hand.

Reaching for Steve's shield, Strange said, “I'll do my best to speed your way, but they will be hunting you, and if I try to move you by magical means, it will reveal my presence as well as yours. The best I can do is-” He held the shield up, studying it with narrowed eyes. Swinging it to one arm, he stripped the glove from his right hand and placed his fingers flat on the shield. 

Whatever was said, it was rapid and lyrical and alien. A shiver traced its way along the length of Tony's spine, and he folded his arms over his chest, glad for the physical weight of the quiver and bow over his shoulder, of the pistol in his pocket; these were things he understood. He didn't have to love them, he didn't even have to like them, he understood them, they followed the rules. They existed in a way that he could comprehend without shifting his entire goddamn world view.

Strange's fingers flexed on the surface of the shield, his hand stretched wide to cover the tips of the star's points. Something like a reflected light gathered on the underside of his palm, cupped between his skin and the surface of the metal. It gathered, flickered, and burst out, skimming over the contours of the shield before disappearing at the edges.

“I'd like to not be part of this now,” Spidey said, and Strange grinned at him as he handed the shield back to Steve.

Steve took it, his brows drawing together in a frown. “What did you do?” he asked, not accusing, just curious. “It feels... Lighter.”

“Mimicry spell. Be as you have been formed, be as you have been made to appear,” Strange said, the words a rhyming little sing-song. “It'll call on some of the properties of the real thing. It is not the real thing, do not be fooled, but no longer is it a simple piece of carbon steel. Take care with it.”

“I will.” Steve settled it on his arm. “Thank you.”

“What's the plan from here?” Tony asked, ignoring that there was a Spider-Man pretty much using him for cover right now, not that he blamed the kid, Strange made him a little wiggy, too.

“I'll do what I can to track this back to its source,” Strange said, stripping his gloves from his hands. He tossed them to Tony, who considered pride and decided that he hated frost bite more than he hated taking anything from magicians. “If you can try to get back to the epicenter, that would be helpful to me. I'm not able to see the way I would like to, and flying blind is dangerous right now.”

“Epicenter. Avengers Tower?” Steve asked.

“Avengers Tower,” Strange said, checking his watch again. “Go home. I'll meet you there.” He waved a hand in their direction, and Tony had to resist bringing his hands up to ward off a blow that wasn't coming. Strange's lips twitched. “Such suspicion, Mr. Stark, I do believe I'm insulted.” He snapped the lid of the watch shut. “Time grows short. I've bought us all some time, but not as much as I would like. I can't stay to say hello to the next players on our little stage. Do pass on my regards.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tony asked, but Strange was already moving towards the rear of the alley. “Strange!”

Strange lifted a hand and gave them a wave. “Good luck, I'll be in touch, watch for our allies, will you please?” And just like that, he dissolved into the shadows, disappearing without a trace.

“Expect the first ghost when the bell tolls onnnnnnnne!” Spidey said, and he gave a shudder. “Really? You hang out with him? Like, often? Because I have such a headache right now, I can't even tell you.” He let out a sigh, and even with his mask in the way, his breath was visible.

“Ah,” Tony said. “That's it.”

“What's it?” Steve asked.

“I was trying to figure out what was bothering me,” Tony said. He slung Clint's bow over his shoulder. “I couldn't see Strange's breath. Seriously. That man. Freaky for the sake of being goddamn freaky. We ready to go?”

“Ah, so that's the source of the light show,” a calm voice said from the head of the alley. A petite brunette stepped into the light, her steps graceful and assured. “And I'm suddenly not surprised. Fighting evil in this city is a such a sausage fest, it's not even funny.”

“Et bien. Bonjour, mes amis.” Behind her, a tall man in a flowing trench coat grinned at them. He slung a silver bo staff across the plane of his shoulders, red and black eyes glowing in the shadows beneath the threads of his dark hair. “You boys wanna clue us into just what the hell is going on here?”

*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm fiddling with things and people who have not, or have not yet, appeared in the MCU. I've adapted and twisted current movie and comic canon. If that bothers you, then this story may not be for you.
> 
> Thanks for your patience, now that the holidays are over, I am going to attempt to focus on this again. I apologize for the delay!

Steve released a sigh, hard and sharp. “Shadowcat, Gambit,” he said, his shield swinging down to his side. “Are you all right?”

Remy shrugged, his lips curling up in a Cheshire cat smile of teeth and malice. “'Bout as well as can be expected, yes?” The bo made a silver arc in the light as he brought it down on the iced over pavement. “And yourselves?”

“Peachy,” Tony said, the word carrying a wealth of sarcastic edge.

Remy's eyes flicked over Tony. “Nice new uniform,” he said, the smirk audible in his voice. “You' usually a bit more subtle then that, but if it's workin' for you, all the power to you.”

Tony glanced down at the Captain America hoodie. “If you pull the hood up, it's a cowl,” he explained, grinning.

“You don' say,” Gambit said, eyes fluttering. “Ain't that just a thing.”

“It is, actually, and the pockets-”

“Thank you,” Steve said, because his face hurt, he was blushing so hard. It didn't help the situation when both Tony and Remy turned to look at him, grinning in an eerily similar way. “Merchandising. It's, well, it's a thing that SHIELD does.”

“With gusto, yes?” Remy's hand came up, a coin rolling between and around his fingers, faster and faster. “We all gotta eat.” He tossed the coin and snatched it out of midair with a flick of his hand.

“Hey, Webhead,” Kitty said, grinning up at Spidey. “I'm feeling betrayed here. You swore you weren't the 'team' sort of boy, and where do I find you? In the clutches of these two maniacs.”

“They are clutchy,” Spidey agreed. He hopped down and Kitty threw herself into his arms, giving him a tight hug. “But I'm not on the team. More like a hitchhiker. I got to ride in a cool car, and Cap nearly killed us, and I think that Iron Man has issues, because he grouses at every person we meet, is there anyone you do like?” he asked Tony.

“It's a very limited number. The Cubs fan there is fine.”

“Gee, thanks, Stark,” Kitty said, grinning at him, leaning into Spidey's side. She was dressed in a thin fall coat and the high neckline of a sweater was visible beneath it. “And what makes you think-”

“Because I absolutely refuse to acknowledge that anyone could possibly root for the White Sox, that's unacceptable. That one-” He pointed at Remy, who grinned, amused. “Is banned from our poker games and shows up anyway and steals my goddamn ashtrays,” Tony said, his hands doing a quick double-check of all of his gear. “Stop stealing my ashtrays.”

“You don' even smoke, I'm just clearin' the clutter,” Remy said, laughter in his voice. “Why do you keep buying them?”

“Because, A. it distracts you from stealing anything of worth, and B. I'm really sick of Logan putting his cigars out on whatever dishware is on the table, or the table itself if there is no dishware, he's a nightmare.” He shifted the weapon case onto his shoulder, settling it in place with an economy of movement. “But you, you're a damn thief, that's what you are.” 

“You throw around the word 'thief' real easy,” Remy said. “I'm not the one with someone else's weapon slung over his shoulder like it's nothin',” Gambit pointed out, his teeth flashing. “Do tell me that my favorite SHIELD agent's not sitting this one out, it'll pure break my poor sufferin' heart.”

“He left it in my car, I claim rights of 'finder's keepers,'” Tony explained. “He's back at the Tower, or he was when we left.”

Kitty stilled, and Remy's fingers shifted on his bo. “Tower still around?” 

“Think you know the answer to that,” Tony said, his mouth twitching in a hard, flat approximation of a smile. It felt unnatural on his face.

“Suspected, but hoped we were wrong. We've run into a few holes in the backdrop, an' ain't gonna lie, they damn creepy.” 

“He's not wrong about that,” Kitty said. “We saw the lights, and figured it might be worth checking out.”

“Strange. He bought us some breathing space, but we don't know how much, or how long it'll last before we're snowed in again,” Tony said.

“How long have you been out here?” Steve asked, swinging his shield onto his back. The mouth of the alley was open, the streets empty. He waved the rest of them back and took a step out, surveying the landscape for any sign of movement. Tony was right; they had to get moving, sooner rather than later. There was no telling how long Strange's respite would hold. “You're alone?”

Kitty and Gambit exchanged a look. “We are now,” Gambit said at last. 

“That's not good,” Spidey said. “Not a comforting turn of phrase, there.”

“We were looking for a runaway,” Kitty said, her arms crossed over her chest. “A mutant who went missing from Schenectady two days ago. Her parents were sure she was headed into the city, and Professor Xavier agreed with them.” 

“He had a solid bead, so he sent out a couple of us to see if we couldn't put a collar on her 'fore somethin' bad went down,” Remy added. “The two o' us, Jubilee, and Logan. The Prof had a lock on her position, and we split up t' make sure she didn't pull a disappearin' act before we had a chance to talk her down off the ledge. Then, poof, permafreeze.”

“We found Jubilee after the storm passed,” Gambit added. “But the kid, and Logan, never surfaced.” He was flicking the tip of his staff against the frozen pavement, and Steve measured the beats, knowing what it meant. Despite his surface calm, Remy was agitated. “Ain't sure what happened to them.” 

“Where's Jubilee?” Spidey asked. He was stripping off the Thor sweatshirt he was wearing as he spoke. “She- I mean, she didn't-”

“She got hit, nothing bad, but she took a header when one of those things caught her from behind.” Kitty blinked, surprised, as Spidey offered her the sweatshirt. “No, thanks, I'm fine. You're barely bigger than me, you should keep it.”

“First of all, ouch,” Spidey said with a shrug. “Second, I've got a hell of a metabolism.” He pressed it into her hands. “Is she-”

“We don't know,” Gambit said, as Kitty slipped into the sweatshirt. “She disappeared.”

“Disappeared? What do you mean, disappeared?” Tony asked.

“She got knocked into a wall,” Kitty said. She folded the sweatshirt's sleeves up over her wrists. “I think she just got knocked out. But as soon as she hit the ground, she just... Disappeared.” She spread her hands. “Poof. Gone.”

Steve glanced at Tony, who was frowning, his face set on tense lines. “Have you seen anyone else?” Tony asked, his fingers flicking against the pocket where his phone was stowed. 

“Not to speak of,” Remy said. He glanced up, flicking his hair out of his face with a tip of his chin. “And our comms are dead, and the telepaths aren't makin' a bit of noise, either.”

“Kind of disconcerting.” Kitty pulled the hood up over her head. “I didn't think I'd miss having someone talk at me inside my head, but I'd give just about anything right now to have the Professor telling us what the hell is going on here.”

“I'm with you, kid,” Tony said. “Don't ever tell Xavier that.”

“Mum's the word,” Kitty agreed. “All the better to blackmail you with.”

“Thanks.” Tony glanced at Steve, who could read the question on his face. Steve nodded. “Gonna throw your lot in with us, then?” Tony asked the two mutants.

“You do find the best fights,” Kitty said with a grin. “And I like picking on the arachnid here.”

“It's true. She does.” Spidey sidestepped her attempt at an elbow to the ribs.

“An' you make a fine distraction.” Remy flicked a hand towards the hoodie. “More so now than usual. Do so enjoy a loud and violent distraction, makes my life so much easier.”

“Glad I could help,” Tony said. “I'm going to set my security system to light you on fire the next time you step foot in my tower.”

As Gambit laughed, Steve shook his head. “Since we're in agreement, let's get moving,” he said. “Before Strange's favor wears off.”

*

Their mini vacation from horrible crushing walls of ice lasted another block, then the city seemed to wake up to their presence once more.

After the second detour to avoid a street that was completely impassable, Steve paused, breathing out hard in the frosty air. “We're flying blind,” he gritted out at last. Which he hated. Very, very much. 

“I can do a run up top,” Spidey said. “See if I can spot a way through. Or at least a safer path.”

Steve studied him. “Be careful,” he said, and the boy nodded. 

“Be right back,” Spidey said, hopping up and bouncing from an iced over bus shelter, to a lamp post, and up to the side of a nearby building. In an instant, he was gone, swinging over the top of the building and disappearing from their sight. Steve stared after him, wishing that they weren't so isolated and alone right now. Tony shifted next to him, and Steve glanced in his direction.

“What I wouldn't give for the commsystem right now,” he muttered under his breath, making Tony's lips twitch.

“Phone's still dead as a doornail, sorry,” he said in an undertone.

“Maybe we should get off the streets, yes?” Remy said, drawing their attention. He waved them over, towards a small shopfront cafe. The door had been ripped most of the way off the hinges by a sheet of ice, and with a sharp tug, Remy got it open. Inside, the lights were still on, music playing overhead, but the room was empty. There was an eerie stillness in the place. 

“Hello?” Steve called. 

“Tell me I'm not the only one creeped out by this,” Kitty said, slipping behind the counter. She pushed the sleeve of the Thor hoodie back and rested her palm against one of the airpots. “It's still warm,” she said back over her shoulder at them. “They must've still been open.”

Tony wandered between the small tables, studying the discarded newspapers and half-finished cups of coffee and tea. A fork was lying next to a barely touched slice of cake, and a laptop was still open and on. Tony slid into the seat, reaching for the keyboard. “Great, not locked out,” he muttered. A few keystrokes later, he made a face. “Fuck. No wifi, and therefore, no internet.”

“Are you surprised?” Remy asked, disappearing into the back hall. A moment later, he was back, shaking his head. “Storage and bathrooms. No one here.”

“Not surprised, but still disappointed,” Tony said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I'm going to have a cup of coffee,” Kitty said, fumbling under the counter for a cup. “Before it goes completely cold. Anyone else?”

Steve fumbled for his wallet, tossing a couple of bills in the tip jar. “Yes, please,” he said, grateful for something, anything that could provide some familiarity. Tony raised a hand, still focused on the laptop with a frown and a furrowed brow.

“Merci, petite,” Remy said. He leaned against the wall next to the door, remarkable eyes flicking over the landscape outside. With a twist of his wrist, he collapsed the full length of his bo staff into a compact baton. He tucked it away before he crossed back to collect his coffee.

Kitty poured the cups, and Steve took one over to Tony, who shoved away from the computer with a strangled sound of frustration. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I don't get this.”

“Nothing?” Steve asked, setting the cup down next to him.

“Nothing. Next time, Rogers,” Tony said, slumped back in the chair, his arms stretched over his head as he tried to work the kinks out of his back, “I'm staying home.” Snapping back forward, he grabbed the coffee cup and tossed the majority of it down in one gulp.

“Understood,” Steve said, giving him a ghost of a smile.

Kitty drained her coffee cup in a couple of quick swallows, warming her fingers on the cup before tucking them back under the overly long arms of the sweatshirt. “What're you two doing out here, anyway?” she asked. “It's Thursday. None of you ever-”

“Wonderful, everyone knows our schedule,” Tony said, groaning. “Everyone.”

“Thor's pretty loud 'bout it,” Remy said. He was flicking cards between his fingers, keeping them limber in the cold. “Can't blame people fo' hearin'.” He arched an eyebrow. “So?”

“We were on a date,” Tony said, and Steve knew it was pathetic, he did, but the words sent a wash of heat through him, curling warm and sweet in his stomach. Kitty and Remy looked at him, and it took him a second to realize that they were looking for confirmation. He nodded, and did his best not to grin like an idiot.

Kitty swore. Laughing, Remy held out a hand. “Pay up, petite.”

“No, this is just-” Her chin at an obstinate angle, she reached for her pocket. “Dammit.”

Steve watched money change hands, and he blinked at them. Tony wasn't nearly so easily thrown. “You had a bet,” he said, his voice unreadable, “about, what, exactly?”

“About when the two o' you were gonna stop makin' with the two step an' get down t' business,” Remy explained. “The young miss, however, was adamant that this was not a course of action that would come to pass.”

“I had hope,” Kitty said, throwing her hands in the air. “For the female half of the species. I am in mourning. For all of my sisters. The good ones, the interesting ones, are either gay, taken, or gay and taken.” She tipped her head to the side, her pony tail swinging behind her. “I had hope that some woman, somewhere, would hit the jackpot, and while I'm very happy for you, it's just-” She paused, consideration on her face. “ARGH!” she finished at last, making Steve jolt.

Spidey paused in the doorway. “I missed something,” he said. “Everyone okay?”

“They're dating,” Kitty said to him, even as she reached for a fresh cup.

“Oh. Yeah, I know.”

“Well, it's frustrating!” She flapped a hand in the air before she started filling the cup. “Non-verbal frustration. ARGH!”

“Like that?” Spidey asked.

“Kinda like that,” she agreed, sliding the cup across the counter at him. She stabbed a finger at Spidey. “See, just for an example. You're taken.”

“I am totally taken.” He sounded very proud about that, a bounce in his step as he crossed over to the sugar container. “And also I kinda wanted to hit on Captain America, so you can't rule out gay,” Spidey explained.

“Everyone wants to hit on Captain America,” Kitty said. “That doesn't classify you as gay, that classifies you as alive.” There was a pronounced pout on her pretty face, and Steve shrugged, not sure what he was supposed to say to that.

“Sorry,” he said, because that seemed safe.

“Argh, why do you have to be so adorable?” she asked, grinning at him.

“I'm not sorry at all, I made enough women happy in my long life,” Tony explained with a pronounced smirk on his face.

“And we're grateful,” Kitty said.

“What, no violent tirade against his, uh, you know, one night stands?” Spidey asked her. He pushed his mask up, hooking it over his nose so he could sip the warm cup of coffee.

Kitty shrugged. “Any woman who slept with him either knew what she was getting, or was dumber than a sack of wet toast.”

“That is the most unappealing description of my love life I've ever heard,” Tony said. “Can we move on?”

“You had a bet about if he- And I-” Steve shook his head, not sure if he should get involved in this discussion, because there was no way that it would end without complete humiliation.

“In the most technical sense of the word, Kitty an' I had a side bet,” Remy said. “The X-Men have a bettin' pool, more on the exact date of this foreordained circumstance.” At Steve's horrified expression, he shrugged. “We run a school full o' hormonal teenagers,” he drawled. “Gossip's the only way t' maintain somethin' that even resembles sanity.”

“I still can't believe-” Kitty grumbled.

“Never bet against Logan when it comes t' pickin' up on, well, the subtle scent of love,” Remy said.

“Oh, my God,” Steve said, and Tony was laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it, his face buried in one hand. “This isn't funny!” he said to Tony, who grinned at him, eyes wet with unshed tears.

“Laugh or cry, Cap, but what do you say to that? To the fact that Wolverine has been sniffing us out over the last couple of-” He lost it, a faint edge of hysteria in the noise. “We should've stayed home and watched Mega Shark Vs. Crocosaurus. That would've been less of a disaster than this date.”

Steve tried to glare at him for a couple of seconds, but there wasn't any point. He reached over and flipped the hood of the Cap sweatshirt over Tony's head and pulled it over his face. “We're wasting time,” he said, because they were, and that was rational and didn't make him sound like a prude. “Let's get moving.”

“Aye, aye, Cap!” Tony said, pushing the hood back with one finger. 

“Do we have a path?” Steve asked Spidey. 

“Yeah, I found a way that's wide enough that even if the ice tries to cut us off, we should be able to get through. We're close now. Want me to take point?” Spidey offered. “I can swing ahead.”

“Do-”

Tony cut him off, coming up behind Steve to stand at his shoulder. “Those webs of yours. You're using something to create them?”

The boy drew back, tucking his hands behind his back. “Uh, no.”

“Uh, yes,” Tony said, arching an eyebrow. “I know mechanics when I see them, and I can see what you're doing with your hands. So if you've got a limited amount of that stuff? It might be a good idea to be careful with it. Right.” It wasn't a question, but Spidey nodded anyway. “Show me what you're working with here, kid, because I'm curious.”

Spidey seemed to waver for a second, his body still drawn up taunt, and then Kitty was pushing her way past them. She patted him lightly on the chest. “He's got wiles, Webhead. Might as well give in with grace and let him play with your tech.” She pulled the hood up over her head. “I'll take point. We haven't met anything yet that can hit me, not if I don't want to be hit.”

Steve gave her a nod. “Be careful.”

She grinned. “You got it, boss man!” Without another word, she ghosted through the wall of the coffee shop, disappearing onto the street beyond. An instant later, her head reappeared, and she grinned at them. “Let's go,” she mouthed.

“Show-off,” Remy told her, flicking his bo back out to it's full length. 

*

The hole where Avengers Tower should've been hurt more than he'd expected it to.

Tony stared at the blank spot on the landscape, and it was all the more creepy for the fact that everything around the spot was intact. Buildings, trees, cars, lights, all were still there. The ice was pushing over every inch of the landscape, thick and slick and swirling like water. The ice reached the edge of the hole, the edge of the gap where the tower used to stand, and then cascaded in. 

He crouched by the edge of the pit, staring down into its depths. It was a long way down, and no matter how he squinted, he couldn't see the bottom. “What's your professional opinion?” he asked Remy, and his voice didn't even shake.

“From the perspective o' one in the business? Stealing a whole buildin' takes talent, and a lot o' brute force.” Remy was pacing the perimeter, his boots heavy on the ice. “Goes all the way down?”

“Can't really say without making an excursion in there,” Tony said. He rested his forearms on the upthrust angles of his knees, staring into the darkness. Snow fell in swirls, catching the light before they disappeared into the void. Steve's hand came down on his shoulder, gripping hard, and Tony reached up and covered Steve's hand with his own. “And I can't do that. Too dangerous, none of us are equipped to deal with that. I think we have to assume that us, whatever happened? It took the building down to the sub-subbasements. Real through.”

“And still no sign of anyone else,” Kitty said. “It's the five of us against the world, huh?”

"Six."

Everyone looked at Spider-Man, and his head tipped to the side. "Six," he repeated. When no one picked up on his cue, he sighed. "Team people," he said, with a note of faint disgust in his voice for team people. He pointed up. "We're being followed. Have been since the beginning. He must've figured out that whatever's happening, we're gonna end up being at the epicenter of it.”

Tony's head tipped back, and he stared at the silhouette of a hawk, perched on the curve of a street light. The bird was watching them, head tipped to the side, feathers fluffed up against the cold. "Oooookay," Tony said, tucking his hands in his pockets. "There's a bird. What... What am I supposed to be getting from this?"

"The hawk's someone's friend," Spidey said. "New guy, but he's on our side. Sticks to Brooklyn and Harlem, for the most part. Fast, that's helpful. But he's smart. That's better." Spidey waved at the bird, who cocked its head to the side, tail flicking as it shifted position. "I don't claim to understand it, but he seems to, I don't know, control the bird? Or the bird communicates with him somehow? But that's not native and it's not anything that belongs around here. But here he is.”

Steve was staring up at the bird, his eyes narrowed. “That's... What, a sidekick? An assistant?”

"Someone's best friend,” Spidey said. “And maybe their only backup.” He shrugged. “I've caught up to him once or twice, but he didn't stick around to talk, so maybe the bird's the only one who knows what he's doing.” His head angled towards the others. “Some of us are kind of working alone.”

“How many?” Tony asked, curious now.

“The city's full of them," Spidey pointed out. "People too secretive, or too independent, or too suspicious to deal with others. If you're not a mutant, and SHIELD hasn't caught up with you..." He shrugged. "There's a lot of people just quietly doing their own thing. Mostly, there's locations where you're most likely to run into them. Daredevil, down in Hell's Kitchen, there's the two down in the Theater district, but they do contract work. The walking anger control issue in the skull shirt wanders through every so often, but I'd suggest staying away from him, Namor can pop up anywhere there's a shoreline, and hey, we're on an island, so that's pretty much anywhere."

"Do you know everyone?" Kitty asked, her dark ponytail swinging behind her as she tilted her head.

"Kinda? I mean, not everyone, but a lot of people. I'm pretty non-threatening and I don't pick up on normal social cues that indicate that people wanna be left alone, so short of punching me, or trying to punch me, I'll pretty much talk to anyone," he told her.

Kitty grinned at him. "Why?"

He shrugged, his hands spreading wide. "Don't you ever get, well, lonely?"

"No," she said.

"Well, then, you're really lucky," Spidey said, laughing. 

"Do you?" Steve asked.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But it's more... What if everyone else is? I talk to everyone, because, well, maybe they're lonely. You never know. And since I am mostly harmless, I mean, most of the time, I'm mostly harmless, people talk back." Something in his voice hinted at a grin. "The worst that happens is that occasionally they try to kill me."

"That's, uh, that's pretty bad, actually," Kitty pointed out.

"I'm really hard to hit." Spidey whistled up at the hawk, who took off from his perch and swooped around them before disappearing into the night. “But it's safe to say that we number six.”

"Seven." Remy's soft, single word brought them all around. He was staring into the darkness, eyes narrowed. His chin tipped up, a half nod into the icy wastes. "Someone order us up a Little Red Riding Hood?"

Tony squinted into the darkness, his hand tightening on the pistol in his pocket. The form didn't look threatening, but he'd been around this business long enough to know that appearances could be very deceiving. 

The figure was like a floating flame, moving through the ice with an easy grace. Enveloped in a deep crimson cloak, it moved between the ice spikes, and Tony could swear the ice flexed, moving out of her way. And it was a her. Too small, too graceful to be anything else, even though he couldn't see the face hidden in the depths of her hood.

She paused, and two slim hands emerged from the robe, pushing the hood away from from her face. Dark curls were caught by the wind the moment she pushed the cloth away, and she stared at them, not flinching. Her green eyes were gleaming in the lamplight, cool against the cream of her skin, beneath the sweep of her dark lashes “I am looking for Stephen Strange,” she said, her voice soft. One gloved hand swept the curls away from her cheeks, tucking them out of her way.

“I'm afraid he's gone already, miss,” Steve said. “He said that a friend was sending her apprentice?”

She stared at Steve for a moment, her gaze carrying weight. Those eyes flicked over each of them, considering, studying. At last, she nodded. “I'm Wanda. Agatha sent me to-” Her face twisted, a hand flashing up, red gloved fingers pressing hard at her temple. Her breath expelled in a sharp burst. “To help,” she finished, her voice strained.

“You're a-” Tony paused. “I'm sorry, is witch a bad word here? Is that insulting? Magic user, that's better, right?”

“Mutant,” she said, with a faint smile. “My apprenticeship with Agatha is less about becoming her successor, and more about learning to control what power I already have.”

“How's that working?” Tony asked.

Wanda's eyes slid shut, and her lips curled up. “It's a work in progress,” she admitted.

“I'm Kitty Pryde,” Kitty said, grinning. “This is Remy.”

“Charmed, petite,” Remy said, sweeping a bow.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said, nodding. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am.”

“Tony Stark,” Tony added. He hooked a thumb in Spider-Man's direction. “And Ol' Webhead. He's like twelve,” he said with a grin.

“I am not twelve,” Spidey said. “I am... Totally not twelve. Can we stop harping on my age?”

Wanda smiled. She stepped forward, her head tipped to the side as she considered Spider-Man. “No. No, you're not.” She turned away, her cloak floating around her. “Pretty close, though.”

“Aw, man!” Spidey through is hands in the air. “I am not!”

Tony slapped him on the shoulder. “Don't worry, kid, I still like you.”

“Real comforting.”

“If your mentor sent you,” Steve said, “does that mean you know what's going on here?”

“More than you. Less than I'd like,” she said. She stared into the hole where Avengers Tower had stood. 

“What does that mean?” Tony asked no one in particular. “Is there something about magic users? Do you guys get together and have discussions about how to sound cryptic?”

Wanda laughed. “What, you think that we have bar nights? That seems like a horrible idea.” She glanced at him, her brows arched high above her eyes. “Do you know where you are right now, Mr. Stark?”

“New York.”

“You're not in New York.” Her lips twitched. “That's what I mean about knowing something. But not knowing everything. You're in an illusion trap.” She squinted into the darkness, flicking out a hand. A flare of light followed the gesture, and she exhaled hard. “Or rather, we all are. You, because you were here when it happened. Me, because I allowed myself to be caught. Because I know the way out. I know the way.” She peered down into the darkness, and a sudden updraft caught her hair and swirled it around her face. She didn't seem to notice. 

“Okay. Can you explain that? Because that seems bad,” Spidey said. “I'm just- I'm not comfortable with the word 'trap,' it hasn't worked out well for me in the past, so...”

She didn't even look up. “Haven't you wondered why you can't get a hold of anyone from outside the city? Why your phones are desperately searching for a signal, any signal? Why all the world outside of this island's gone silent? And why you are now alone?” She stood. “It's because you're no longer on the right plane of existence. You're lost. Gone.”

“Gone where?” Kitty asked.

“I don't know. Agatha didn't know, either, and that should worry you,” she said. Her steps careful, she started to pace off the length of the side. “But if I carry a thread from the net to the boat, then she can find us. She can find us, and mark our position. Magical GPS, of a sort.” 

“Can you please explain this in a way that does not sound crazy?” Tony asked. “Please?”

Her lips curled up. “I doubt it.” Still, her fingers flicked through the air. “The snow, the ice, that all hit in an instant, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “It was like a bomb going off.”

“For the outside world, as well. At least the magic using part of the rest of the world.” Wanda blew out, and caught a bit of the steam with a tip of her finger, swirling it up tight and catching it in her palm. “I was some distance away, and I was still knocked off my feet, in the literal sense, when it happened. The shockwaves were enormous. Whoever did this, she expanded an immense amount of power to pull this off.”

She crouched down, and drew a complicated symbol in the snow before scooping it up. “Agatha was able to tap into the situation, to a certain extent, so we were able to see what was happening.”

“And what's happened?” Kitty asked, trailing behind her. 

Wanda glanced at her. “I don't know. Seeing isn't understanding. But right now? We're not in New York. You were caught in a trap. Like a net that closed over the entire island. Sweeping everything away. And that net was anchored by a handful of sites. Buildings. This one. And a few others.” Her whole body jerked, and she made a soft, shuttered sound of pain through gritted teeth. 

Steve reached for her. “Are you all right?” he said, his fingers steadying her shoulder.

“Yes. No.” Her face screwed up tight for an instant, then relaxed. “Worse. It's getting worse. And fast. She's realized something is wrong. That there's a hole in the net, a hole that we can use. We have to use it before she locates it, before she cuts off our path.”

“To get out?” Remy asked.

“To get to her.” Wanda's head snapped up, her eyes clear, almost glowing. “Time. We run short of time, and she will send what she has left to force us to- No. Can't. There is a way out, a way through.”

“Wanda?” Steve caught her when she staggered, supporting her slim weight. “What do we need to do?”

“We need to enlarge the hole,” Stephen Strange said from behind them. “Wanda? Can you-”

“Of course,” she said, her body drawing up. “I was not the one who disappeared when we needed him most.”

“My apologies.” He blew a breath into his palm. “It's at the bottom.”

“Yes.”

“It shouldn't allow us to get to her,” he pointed out.

Wanda grinned. “When I'm around, things have a way of not working the way people intended,” she said. “Help me find the hole. I will punch us through.”

He nodded, unwrapping the scarf from his neck. With a twist of his wrist, he flicked it out, and it fell like a bolt of silk to his feet, a broad, swirling cape that he wrapped around his shoulders. “Can you hold it together long enough for us to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Wanda-”

She turned on him, her chin up, her eyes narrow. “My brother was in New York,” she said, her voice flat and calm. “I've been separated from him. I walked into this trap, of my own free will, to get him back.” She took a step forward, her gloved hands in fists at her sides. Tony blinked as pink energy swirled around her hands, sparking and growing with each of her steps. “She has my twin. I will do whatever it takes to get him back, and that's all that matters.”

Stephen studied her, his mouth tight. “Tell me if you start slipping.” She waved him away, and the pink energy dissipated in the air. With a nod, Stephen glanced at the others. “We need a third.”

“The Cajun,” Wanda said.

“No,” Remy said. “No.” He spread his hands, palms flat and wide. “I got no power o' that sort.”

“We need a third for this to work,” Strange said. “For this to have any chance of success. And of the five of you, you're the only one that we can use.”

“I'm not-”

“Two scientists whose belief lies in what they can manipulate, what they can touch, and two who still carry the marks of their religious belief,” Wanda said, her eyes unfocused. “And you. Who has a charm in his pocket now that that carries the dirt of his home, and the mark of voodoun.” She glanced at him. “You only need to be a placeholder who believes.”

He shifted. “Is this gonna kill me, petite?”

Her lips twitched. “Depends on how fragile you are.” She held out her hand.

“Ominous,” he said, but with a graceful flick of his fingers, he dropped a small silk bag into her palm. “Gonna need that back.”

“You'll get it back.” She closed her eyes. “Breathe into your right palm, close your fingers around it, and take our hands.”

“This will be delicate work,” Strange said to the others. “And we're unprotected. If it's interrupted, I don't know if we'll be able to try again.”

Steve nodded. “We'll give you whatever protection we can muster,” he said. “But Strange? We need to know what's going on.”

There was a roar, like the world itself collapsing, and Tony swung around, putting his back to Steve, desperately looking for the attack, even as the crashing got closer. The street beneath their feet began to vibrate. “We're out of time,” Strange yelled, trying to be heard over the sound. “You're going to have to trust us, trust me!”

“Just do it!” Tony yelled, drawing back, drawing close to Steve and Spider-Man and Kitty, and without a word, without an order, they fell into place around the casters, Spidey closest to the hole, Steve facing away, the shield at the ready, and Kitty and Tony flanking them both.

“How long do we have to hold this?” Steve said, bracing his feet.

“Ten minutes. Maybe a bit more,” Strange said. “Whatever you do, don't let them break us apart.”

“This is going to be bad, isn't it?” Spidey said.

“I think we can-” Kitty started, and then the ice poured in on them, crashing down from all sides at once.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so long in coming guys! I'm trying, I promise! Mea culpa. 8)
> 
> Warnings for canonical levels of violence, mortal peril and really pissed off boyfriends.
> 
> It's a thing.

The previous attacks were mild, compared to this.

This was not an attack at all, this was bomb going off at his feet, this was a wave of living debris, slamming into them at full force, carried by the wind and the earth itself. This was the city collapsing in on them, staggering, shattering, lunging for them.

Steve met it head on, because there was no other way to survive.

The monsters were everywhere now, dozens of them, hundreds, and the headlong rush didn't improve their chances; they collided and crashed into one another, ice shattering and splintering and crashing to the ground, losing limbs and fragments of heads and bodies, and when they did lunge for Steve, it was like fighting crumbling statuary. They were broken, fractured, and still propelled forward, so many, and so fast that it was all he could do to hold them off, slamming them back, trying to clear them some space.

“Hold them back! I've got point,” he yelled. “Tony, take the left, Kitty, on the right. Spidey, keep moving.”

“Gotcha,” the boy said, and he was airborne, using the remains of light poles and broken buildings, anything and everything, webs flying as he swung, snapping in circles, picking off the creatures so fast he was a blur in red and blue. He'd abandoned anything approaching precision and was just doling out an incredible amount of damage. He swung in low, into the mass of ice monsters, and when he reappeared, he was clutching one by the leg. It snarled and twisted in his grip, but he held on, until the highest point of his swing, and then he reversed direction, coming in low and fast, using it like a wrecking ball, destroying everything in his path.

Kitty was braced, and it was her intangibility she used now, luring the beasts in, darting and dancing and slipping between claws and teeth. She taunted them, all noise and speed and everything that attracted a predator, and when it was frustrated and snarling with rage, she simply let them phase through her. They crashed into each other, and she darted over the shattered remains, never slowing, never losing track of her footing, of her position, her head swinging with a ballerina's innate precision. She slid, forward and back, and waited until they were on her before she simply ceased to be. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve watched one of the wolves pass through her chest. It crashed to the icy pavement and spun, out of control, to the edge of the pit. Just like that, it was gone, disappearing into the darkness, and Kitty was already on her next opponent, her feet sure on the ice.

Tony was swinging Clint's weapons case like an improvised club, fast and precise, smart and focused. He was picking off he ones that were stupid enough to creep forward, the ones that couldn't control their bloodlust. He darted left and right, clearing himself space, what space he could manage. “Spidey,” he yelled, “catch!” He fished something from his pocket, flicking it up, and Spider-Man was there, not even a question, his free hand snapping out to pick it out of mid-air. “Clear us some breathing room!”

“On it, Shellhead.” He flipped free, landing sideways in a crouch against the nearest building. “Let's hope this isn't actually New York.” And just like that, he was moving, disappearing into the night shadows.

“Where is he going?” Kitty yelled.

“To calculate the best angle,” Tony said. “Cap, duck!” 

Steve went down in a dip, and the weapons case swung over his head, hard and fast, clipping a huge mass of ice and slamming it into the pavement. Steve finished it off with the shield, guillotining it with a flick of his hands, and bringing the shield up in the same movement to block another attacker. “Watch yourself,” he said to Tony, who grinned.

“Why? You're taking care of that for me.” He went in low, jabbing with the case at a leg with a spider-web crack running through it. The slight blow was enough to fracture the weakened ice, and the thing went down, smashing into another one of the beasts as it fell. Tangled together, they hit the pavement and came apart, and Tony scrambled backwards to get away from the ice. 

“Is it too much to ask,” Steve gritted out, “for one nice night out without someone trying to kill you?”

“It probably is, sorry.” For an instant, he and Tony were back to back, moving smoothly in a circle, each matching the others movements. “How long do we have to hold them off?”

Steve flicked a glance towards Strange, Wanda, and Remy. A swirl of light, crackling and arcing, was forming around their feet, arcane symbols pouring through the snow in the circle of their bodies. Red light bled through, sharp as a blade, slicing through the snow.

“We hold them off as long as we need to,” Steve said to Tony. “Watch yourself.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the hint of movement and snagged Tony with one arm, pulling him around and down, beneath the cover of his shield. He felt the creature hit, and he pushed up, hard. Tony's hand was right there, next to his, and together, they flipped the thing away, into another of the beasts.

Spider-Man cut in low and fast, feet slamming into a jumping monster. “Brace yourselves!”

Steve watched him swoop upwards, and he snagged Tony again. “Kitty! Incoming!”

Her hair flew like a banner as she spun in their direction, sharp eyes taking in the situation in an instant, and her teeth flashed in a brilliant smile. “Do it!” she yelled, and jumped, one of the beasts passing through her. Like a phantom, she watched it crash to the pavement.

Spidey swung hard, and flung the explosive arrow head, sweeping away even as it hit a building. The brick and stone shattered, crashing down into the ice creatures, and for an instant, there was just debris and ice going in all directions, the swirl of air and clatter of stone.

Steve's arm tightened on Tony, folding him close, their bodies crouched low beneath the shelter of the shield. He felt the impacts, small and large, of chunks of stone and the shrapnel of ice shards. “That was helpful,” he said, the words almost against Tony's hair. “How many more of those do we have?”

“I'm surprised they've held out this long,” Tony said, and that was answer enough. Gritting his teeth, Steve unfolded, braced for any new impact. But for now, whatever remained of the monsters that hadn't been destroyed were actively retreating, regathering their strength, swirling in glittering illusions at the very edge of the light. Steve risked a glance up.

“Status!” he called, and Spider-Man landed neatly on one of the few remaining light poles, his hands resting on the narrow arc of metal between his feet. 

“A-okay, Captain!” he said, and he dropped feet sliding around the pole so he was hanging upside down.

Kitty was bouncing, keeping herself loose and ready, her hands shaking out at her sides. “Good shot, webhead,” she said, giving him a smirk. “You are a disaster looking for a place to happen.”

“Aw, I'm blushing.” His head arched backwards, towards the casters. “How much longer?”

“We have other problems,” Tony said, gathering himself and the weapons case. “These things will not stop coming.”

Steve looked out and bit back a curse. The force at the edge of the crumbled mass of stone and metal seemed to be multiplying, and even from this distance, he could hear the crackle pop of the ice shifting and reforming. A swirl of wind cut over the landscape, pushing his hair into his face, and Steve shifted his grip on the shield. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony give him a look. He didn't return it, because he didn't need what he already knew to be confirmed.

They were running out of energy, space and time.

“Brace,” he called, and the word was barely out of his mouth before the ice was coming towards them. Like a glacier, like a world collapsing, it fell in on them, and he hated that, he hated that his company was two children and the person he so desperately wanted to protect, he hated the inadequate protection of a piece of steel gripped in his hand, even as he moved. Even as he attacked, even as he crashed through the first of the attackers, he hated every moment of this.

If he'd had an instant free for prayer, he would've offered one up, to whatever God was still listening to him after all this time.

Instead, he drove his point home with fists and feet, with the sharp edge of his shield and the broadside of whatever strength he could still muster, his breath coming in swirls of mist studded with ice fragments. He couldn't pause to think of the impacts, couldn't stop for an instant, there were too many, and they were coming too fast.

Spider-Man was moving faster than he could've thought possible, and Kitty was leading a pack away, her feet flashing over the ground, splitting the ranks. Steve turned just in time see Tony be caught from the side, hitting hard, his head bouncing against the ground, and Steve stopped breathing. Tony was still fighting, still kicking, his face twisted with the effort, but even from this distance, Steve knew it was a helpless fight.

Jaws opened, ice shards of teeth glittering, and Tony's fist caught it broadside, one last punch, not enough, not nearly enough, but it was Tony, that was what he'd always loved about Tony. 

What he couldn't bear to lose.

Steve braced and threw, his whole body arcing with the force of it, and the shield sliced through the attackers between them, ice shattering in waves as it passed. Like a heated knife, it crashed through them, sending shards in all directions. Tony rolled free, pushing out before the worst of the chunks buried him. 

“Thanks, Cap!” he yelled, and he was scrambling for footing, scrambling for a weapon, but already fighting again, because he was Tony Stark.

Steve turned to meet the next attacker, and he missed the shield already. Missed it even as he took a swing, his fist enough force to take out the little ones, even as the impact of his bare fist on the ice sent a shudder through his bones, the pressure sending him skidding back a step. He countered it with a forward rush, using the push of his steps to aid the force of his swings.

“Look out!” Tony yelled, and Steve turned to meet the clattering rush of a massive beast. He had an instant, a bare second, to realize that it was going to get past them, going to hit the casters broadside, and knock all three of them into the yawning pit, and then Steve was moving.

His feet chewed up the ground between him and the beast and he cursed the lack of his shield, he needed it, his hand itched for it, but there was no point in wishing for what he couldn't have. It was just him, and the beast and not enough space. No time and no space for subtleties or grace, no weapons or tech, just brute strength and his bare hands.

He crashed into the beast, catching it around the neck, twisting as he let his forward momentum twist the creature around. Its paws clawed at the icy pavement, bucking and thrusting against Steve's grip, a howl splitting the air. Steve tried to twist around, and his feet skidded, slid, and he had an instant, just an instant, to curse the slick soles of his dress shoes, before he was airborne. The beast tumbled with him, the two of them smashing into the pavement, and the creature was coming apart, shattering and falling to pieces.

And Steve he was flat on his face, and still sliding, his hands grabbing for purchase as the momentum sent him sliding across the ice.

From a distance he heard Tony scream, he knew that voice, even when the sound had no words behind it, even when it was a howl of denial and rage and pain. He hated this, hated the fact that he was slipping, sliding, his fingers clawing for anything that might slow him down, but there was nothing on the slick surface of the ice. Just him and his inadequate fingernails, and the yawning pit.

His feet slipped over the edge, and Steve knew he was falling, and wished, with his last moment of clarity, that Tony hadn't been there to see him fall.

Then there was nothing, nothing to grip, nothing to grab, nothing in reach, just the rush of air and the echoes of the ice, darkness rising to swallow him as he plummeted down. The air swirled around him, ripping the breath from his lungs, and he was in freefall, and there was nothing else to do but wait for the impact.

The hand latching on his wrist shocked the hell out of him.

His head jerked up, but he couldn't see much, the figure was backlit, the glow surrounding him like a halo, and as Steve watched, confused, a giant pair of wings unfolded, and the two of them came to a bone-jarring halt.

“HOLD ON!”

Too late, Steve realized that he was hanging there, about as useless as a fish on a hook. Lashing out, he grabbed his rescuer's arm with his free hand, holding on as tight as he could. The two of them were swinging, Steve's weight bearing the man down, but he was controlling their descent, pushing them in loose circles in the dark hole, and then, as the cascade of ice slowed, he brought them around, hard.

“Stay with me!” he yelled down, and he had good hands, strong, capable hands, his grip never faltering. Even with Steve hanging, his weight pulling against the thrust of those wings, the fingers never slipped. Steve held on, gave the man what assistance he could, but it was precious little.

And it was apparently enough, because they were climbing now, caught in an updraft or a swirl of air that echoed through the hole. Slow at first, barely registering on Steve's skin, and then harder, much harder, hard enough to press on his body as if he was actually capable of flight. The wings, gleaming and brilliant where the light touched them, caught the wind and they were going up, and fast.

They burst to the surface with enough force to make Steve dizzy. But even as his eyes adjusted, he could see Spidey staggering under the weight of one of the monsters. “Ten o'clock!” he yelled.

“You giving orders now?” the man yelled down to him, but even as he was saying it, he was wheeling, turning their flight on a dime and swinging them around hard. “Call it!”

Steve swung his body up, his legs braced. “Now!” he yelled, and the man let him go, launching him hard before he pulled up, almost clipping one of the ice beasts.

It wasn't his most graceful tackle, but Steve caught the thing around the chest and flipped it to the ground. It hit with a shattering impact, and Steve rolled free, his shoes skidding in the chunks of ice. “You okay?” he yelled to Spidey, who was already bouncing back up.

“Yeah,” and the kid sounded terrified. “You-”

He met a headlong rush with a punch, his fist aching from the impact with the ice, but he knocked the damn thing down for the count. “I'm fine, keep your head in the fight.”

A flash of ice, small and deadly and sharp edged, shot for Steve's face and a flash of wings, ruddy and bright, intercepted it. The hawk wheeled, is prey held in talons that bit into the icy surface. It spiraled up, its wings working against the weight of the ice that struggled in its grip. High, impossibly high, it let go, letting the beast tumble to shatter against the pavement. The hawk was already diving again, wings beating against the muzzle of an ice wolf, blocking vision and causing panic.

“Cap!” 

He looked up, and the winged man dropped Steve's shield into his hands. “Hold onto it this time!”

Grinning, Steve turned on his heel and, the shield held in both hands, he took the head off of one of the wolves, driving it down. With one smooth, practiced movement, he slipped it onto his arm, then swung it, slicing into three more in quick succession. Bracing his feet, he forced himself forward, smashed his way through another one of the creatures, with the flat of the shield.

Behind him, there was a burst of light, and everything seemed to hang for an instant, as if the world had slowed to a halt, time and space suspended. Then a wave of light exploded outward, passing through him and pushing the ice beasts back, expanding like a bubble around them.

Stephen Strange stepped into his line of sight , his hands held up over his head. There was a look of concentration on his face, and his fingers were glowing. “Thank you,” he said, his coat swirling around his legs with some unseen wind. “I can hold them off. For a few minutes, at least.”

Steve fell back, his head swiveling around. “Everyone good?”

Kitty was breathing hard, her face pink. She braced her hands on her knees, her back rising in quick bursts as she breathed. “Yeah.” Spidey was leaning against a pole, breathing too hard to speak, but he gave Steve a thumbs up.

Tony, who hadn't been running the way the two kids had been, was a bit better, but his face was bone white, his eyes dark holes, haunted and empty. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he hissed out. “Don't ever do that again.”

Steve nodded, catching his arm in a firm grip. “I'm fine.”

“By the skin of your fucking teeth, and some help from our new arrival,” Tony pointed out, avoiding Steve's gaze. But he leaned into Steve's touch, his head falling forward as he exhaled, a cloudburst of mist around his hair. “Don't ever do that again.”

Before Steve could even come up with an appropriate lie, the ground beneath their feet heaved, the force enough to almost knock them down. Tony stumbled against Steve, who caught him. The newcomer hopped off the ground, his wings cutting the air. “What the hell was that?” he asked.

“That was the spellcaster running out of patience, or energy, or both,” Wanda said. She seemed stable and still, her cloak roiling against the ground. “The trap's closing.”

“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Spidey said, pointing up. Steve followed his finger, and lost his breath.

Outside of the glowing dome of Strange's powers, the world was collapsing. With a roar, buildings toppled, ice rose like a wave, cresting above the declining skyline. From every shadow, every crack, ice creatures were flinging themselves forward, destroying everything in their path, crashing into the energy wall that held them back. Strange flinched, his face twisting. 

“We have to go,” Wanda said. “Now.”

“Now would be good!” Stephen yelled back. “We're about two minutes away from getting buried here!”

“Where are we going?” Remy asked, sparking cards held between the knuckles of his first two fingers. With a flick of his wrists, he took out two of the larger ones. He slid around Steve, his body a live wire, pink sparks tumbling in all directions, falling to the street around him like snowflakes. He fired off card after card, pushing the monsters back, taking out all of them that were stupid enough to draw his eye. His aim and his power were a brutal combination, and Steve wondered, idly, how many of those cards he had.

“Down,” Wanda said, and she was the only one who wasn't shouting, her voice soft and precise. 

“I wouldn't recommend that,” the newcomer said, wings still catching the air. “It's a long way down. Don't know how we got out last time.”

“The world's a chaotic place,” she said, calm about it. Her eyes seemed to glow as she stepped to the edge of the hole, the wind tugging at her clothes and her hair. “Especially when I'm around. We're going down.”

“I hate to say it, and really, yeah, I reeeally hate to say it,” Kitty said, “but I don't see any other way out.”

Steve's eyes darted over the landscape, but there was nothing, nothing he could see outside of their ever collapsing circle of light, nothing but collapsing buildings and living ice. “You're sure about this?” he asked Wanda.

She didn't glance in his direction. “Hold onto that shield,” she said. “We need it.” She held out a hand. “We're running out of time, let's go.”

Steve took hold of her small hand, and her grip was surprisingly firm. He glanced at the others. “Let's go.” He swung the shield onto his back and reached for Tony's hand.

“This is a horrible idea,” Tony said, but he fought to get the battered weapons case on his back, and grabbed Steve's free hand. 

Kitty grabbed Tony's hand, and Spidey fell into place beside her, holding a hand out to their new ally. The man shook his head. “I can fly along with you, but that's-”

“It won't work,” Wanda said, cutting a frustrated look in his direction. “

“You need to come,” Strange said. “At this point, if we leave you behind, you might not make it.” He paused. “No. If you stay behind, you will not make it.”

The newcomer glanced up at the collapsing bubble of energy. “I should've known better than to get involved,” he said, but he grabbed Spidey's hand. “Redwing, come!” The bird swooped in for a landing on his shoulder, and he stroked its head with a careful hand. “Hold on to me, okay, buddy?” 

“Gambit, now!” Strange said, and Remy swung around, one last volley of cards flying, and he snagged the flier's hand and Strange grabbed his.

Wanda didn't look up, didn't glance back, she just jumped.

And everyone went with her.

*

It was hot. Very hot.

Not really much of a surprise. Tony had been pretty sure that he was going to end up in hell one of these days, but he'd hoped that the modern version would just have been him trapped with a Windows tablet, poking helplessly at the worst interface ever created, over and over and over, with no actual ability to interact with anything.

Of course, if hell was really in his future, maybe it would just be an eternity in tech support. That sounded about right. Of course, if he took the nineties into account, he was looking at an eternity of doing tech support for Windows VISTA. 

“Tony?”

His eyes snapped open, and he stared up at Steve's worried face. His breath left him in a rush. “You're here. Great. Not hell.” 

“Not hell,” Steve said, his hand steadying Tony as Tony struggled into a sitting position. “You're not going to hell, and we're not dead.”

Tony clutched his head. “Gotcha. Not dead.” Squinting into the darkness, he let his eyes adjust to the low light. “Does that mean we made it?”

“Yes,” Wanda said, and both of them looked towards the sound of her voice. She was on her feet, one hand braced against the wall. “We're through. We're... In the tower?”

Tony's head jerked around. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, we are. In the access corridors, I think. Beneath the arc reactor and the relays, that explains the heat. But we made it.” He blinked. “We made it.” A sharp bubble of laughter caught in his throat almost choking him. “Fuck. We actually made it.”

“Bien,” Remy said, pushing himself up. “Because I was not looking forward to doin' that again, no.” He reached for Kitty's hand and pulled her up. She was making soft, choked off sounds under her breath, like semi-hysterical giggles. Spider-Man was clinging to a wall with both hands and both feet, his breathing audible, faint tremors running through his form.

“Everyone okay?” Steve asked, still gripping Tony's elbow for an instant before he pulled away. Tony didn't care, he was glad, he was more than happy to lean into that contact and remind himself, over and over and over that Steve was alive, that he was here, still whole and strong and safe. And alive. The most important part of that was really, really, that Steve was alive.

And he would do his best not to think about the rest of it, not until he had a bottle in front of him to take the edge off, a drink to steady his nerves and give him an excuse for how his hands shook at the memory. At the thought of watching Steve disappear into the darkness, dropping out of sight in an instant.

For an instant, he'd forgotten that he did not have the suit. And that he could not fly. On the edge of that precipice, he'd forgotten. Or he'd no longer cared.

But before his foot could slip over the edge, before he could follow in a headlong rush, the dark flash of red and silver had dropped out of the sky, dove past him with enough force to knock him back from his headlong rush. And by the time Tony had found his feet again, both of them had emerged from the pit.

And someday, Tony would recover from that.

He'd followed them, and Tony wasn't sure if that was an act of insanity, faith, or self-preservation, but he'd dropped out of the sky at the moment when Tony had needed him most. Now, he was leaning against the wall, taking in the situation. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” the man asked Steve. He held up one muscled arm, and the hawk came in for an easy landing.

Steve grinned at him. “It's been suggested,” he said, bracing his hands on his knees. He sucked in a slow breath, and another.

“It's pretty much assured at this point,” Tony gritted out, because, really? This wasn't funny. Steve's eyes cut in his direction, and Tony ignored him, turning his attention to the access panels at the corridor junction. “Feel free to tell him, though, he doesn't listen when the rest of us point it out.” Tony pulled one of the panels open, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Jarvis?” There wasn't a reply, and he hadn't really expected one. That was just the way this day was going.

“Tony-” Steve started.

“Later,” Tony said. “Jarvis? Fuck, there should be-” He pried open another panel, checking the relays.

The newcomer raised an eyebrow over the top of his mask. “So, yeah, some history there. Great.”

“They're dating,” Spidey said.

“That explains it,” the man said, without missing a beat. He held out his hand to Steve. “You're out of your mind.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, his mouth twitching. He shook the newcomer's hand. “Steve Rogers.”

“Yeah, I know who you are, Cap.” He grip was firm, his gaze straightforward under his mask. “Just call me Falcon.”

Tony let Steve handle the introductions; he had better things to do. Like make some goddamn contact with his AI. “C'mon, c'mon,” he muttered, his fingers slipping through the wire bundles. “Gotta have something I can use here...”

Kitty was looking down at her chest. “Hey, the sweatshirt-” She looked up. “What happened to the Thor sweatshirt webhead gave me?”

“It was part of the illusion,” Wanda said. She standing, one hand braced on the wall. Her legs wobbled as she took a step forward, but she didn't falter. “It wasn't real, so it could not follow us here.”

“This is... Different.” 

Tony glanced over to where Steve was crouched. A glowing disc of light lay in Steve's hands, the same size and shape and carrying the same colors as his shield. He held it up, and it was transparent, at least enough to see his wide eyes through it. Spidey reached over and tapped cautiously on it, and his fingers met resistance. “Okay,” he said, “that's weird. What the hell-”

“A real spell, placed on an illusion of an object, passed through a point of chaos,” Wanda said, one eyebrow arched. “We need it. So we kept it.” Her lips went tight. “On some level.”

Strange nodded. “Curious,” he said, swirling his hand over the shield. “It is an energy projection alone, now. No more than that, but still carrying certain elements of your shield.” He looked at Wanda, his eyes narrowed. “This shouldn't be-”

“We need it,” she repeated. She glanced at Tony. “We need to go.”

“Not until I know what's going on up top,” Tony said. He spared a glance in her direction. “Because not even Cap knows the routes down here, so I'll be the one bringing us out, and somewhere in this building is my team, and I do not like it when I don't knowBefore we walk into a hornet's nest, you want to give us a hint as to what we're facing up there?”

She shook her head. “I don't know.”

“You know more than we do,” Stephen said. She was silent, and Stephen sighed. “Wanda...”

She didn't look in his direction. “A net closed over the city of New York. It swept through, and took with it several buildings, and many, many people. Almost immediately, people began to reappear. But they were all unconscious, and when they woke, they had no memory of where they'd been or what had happened.” She paused. “They are reappearing in dozens, in hundreds at a time now. But three groups are missing, and did not reappear with the rest. Mutants, the super-powered, and those who deal with both groups. Federal agents and law enforcement, mostly, but others as well.”

“The SHIELD building is gone,” Falcon said. “I saw that.”

“Yes. And the Baxter building, and the Avengers tower, amongst others.” She paused. “And while the people from around those locations have returned, no one who was confirmed IN any of those buildings has been confirmed to be amongst them.”

“The spell was after the people?” Spidey asked.

“Agatha thinks so.”

“I assumed they chose their targets based on a hunger for magical items,” Strange said.

“Likely enough that was something she wanted, and an easy way to lay to her spell, but if that were the only thing she was after, then where are the agents?” Wanda asked. “Where are the officers? Where are the people? If the caster's only interest was in magical items, then easy enough to expel the Fantastic Four back into our world, and keep that of their things that interests her. But no one from that building has been seen, not since the spell passed.”

“Why? If the others are comin' back, why not?” Remy was flicking through a deck of cards, his fingers flashing over and over as the cards blurred between his hands. “Even if she was interested in those o' us with power, why keep 'em all?”

“They don't know who's who,” Kitty said. When everyone looked at her, she was nodding. “What if the person doing this doesn't know who they're looking for? They know SOMEONE in this location has powers, but Johnny Storm doesn't look any different than any other hot blonde dude, if he's not using his powers. Ben, sure, you can tell Ben on sight. Some mutants, it's visible. But what if they don't know? Who's dangerous and who's not?”

“The power is not of Earthly origin,” Strange said, glancing at Wanda. She nodded, a quick dip of her chin. “So rather than take the chance, they may have just kept every occupant of the building. Which is both dangerous and a strain on her power.”

“The power is not hers. It is being used. And it is using her.” Wanda looked at Strange. “She does not know her limits.”

“The illusion trap proved that. She lost control at the end.” He took a deep breath. “You think she is in this building?”

“She is here,” Wanda said. “And will find us, before we find her, if we don't move.”

“What're we doing here?” Spidey asked, on the ceiling now, his head tipped back, tipped down at them. “Because if I'm understanding this correctly, and man am I hoping that I'm not understanding this correctly, you're saying we're in Avengers Tower, but the tower, and thus, us, are not on Earth. So where are we? What're we trying to do? Because I'd like to go home. And not die. Add that on; I do not want to die here. Please?”

“We are in the Tower,” Tony said. He stripped the insulation off a wire and made an adjustment to his phone, muttering the whole time.

“And we are not on Earth,” Strange said.

“Well, hell,” Spidey grumbled.

Wanda smiled, just a little. “Agatha should be able to follow the spell we laid, and she has friends. I doubt we'll be able to convince the caster to undo what she has done, but if we can disarm her, we can put things right. Put people and things back where they belong.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tony asked. “Magic. Fucking MAGIC.”

“He's uncomfortable with our chosen skill set,” Strange told Wanda. 

“As am I, sometimes.” Her fingers brushed against the wall, and Tony didn't think he was imagining the faint traces of pink light that trailed behind the contact. “She knows we are here.”

“Knows, or suspects?” Falcon asked, his eyes narrowed. Tony had to admire the guy, despite having never spoken to any of them before, well, other than the spastic child in the body suit who was currently STUCK TO THE CEILING, Falcon wasn't letting them, or the situation, intimidate him. His arms crossed over his chest, he watched them all, his eyes almost as sharp as his bird's.

“Her trap has closed, and the prey she was seeking was not in it. By now, she knows that, without a doubt,” Wanda said. “She does not have us, so there are two choices: we escaped the net entirely and back to the real of New York, or we have slipped through the snare and now face the trapper.” She paused, and her head tipped up. “She cannot know which is true. But if she is clever, I know which she fears.”

“And which she's preparing for,” Tony grumbled. He shook his head. “I can't get a response from Jarvis,” he said at last, glancing at them. 

“That's bad?” Spidey asked.

“It's sure as hell not good,” Tony admitted. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I want my armor.”

“She will be waiting for that,” Wanda said, frustration creeping into her voice, into her face, and for an instant, there was something angry in her eyes. And then, as quick as it had appeared, it was gone, and she rubbed her forehead with stiff fingers. “We can't risk it.”

“Well, we can't go in there unarmed,” Kitty said.

Gambit made a magician's pass with his hands, flicking cards between his arched fingers. “Ain' never unarmed, petite.”

“I'm running low,” Spider-Man admitted. “Some of us depend on science rather than nature.”

Gambit grinned up at him. “A shame, to be sure, but not a problem I'm having.”

Falcon shrugged. “I'm up for a fight, but I wouldn't object to being armed. Somehow. This isn't what I'm used to facing.” 

Tony shrugged. “What I had got left behind in la-la land,” he said. “Not that it was real at all.” He paused. “But the car-” He stopped. “Know what? Never mind.”

“The trap was clumsy,” Wanda said. “Too big, too over complicated, too much, too wasteful. It is someone drunk off a power newly found, she plays with it without respect to how damaging it could be. She could easily have accomplished her goals without such tactics, without such theatrics, but she is...” She paused, her face creasing with a frown.

“Showing off?” Kitty suggested, and Wanda smiled at her.

“Showing off,” she agreed. “It is dangerous, the games she is playing; we can turn them against her.”

Tony studied them, and flicked a glance towards Steve, who'd been silent for a long time. With a faint smile, he said, “Call it, Captain.”

Steve glanced at the others, asking the question without a word.

Kitty nodded, her pointy chin dipping in a sharp little salute. “Not my turf,” she said. “You know the lay of the land.”

“An' I've no likin' for the job,” Remy said, his lips quirking up. “Or bein' in front with a target on my chest.”

Spidey bounced down to the ground, coming to full height, his slim shoulders back, his head up. He nodded. “What's the plan?”

Falcon stroked Redwing's crest, his fingers gentle. “Do we have a plan?”

Strange and Wanda just waited, eyes expectant.

Steve took a deep breath. “Educated guess,” he asked Wanda. “She knows we're here. How much does she know?”

She paused, eyes fluttering closed. “The trap fed on the minds of the trapped,” she said slowly. “Which is why it seemed to narrow in focus as the numbers within it dwindled. Each a point of light, being snuffed, one after another, and the darkness closes in.” Her lashes lifted, and her gaze was sharp. “She does not know of us, specifically, only that there was magic at work, and some of her prey escaped.”

“You're sure?”

Her fingers brushed her mouth, pink sparks flickering there in the darkness. “Yes.”

Steve nodded. “Then we split our forces. Tony, you take Kitty and Remy and find out what's affecting the tower, and if we can get control back.” He glanced at Strange. “If it's magic that's keeping us out, can you counteract that?” Strange nodded. “Good, go with them.”

He glanced at the others. “Falcon, Spider-Man, Wanda, we're going forward. Up and through.” His grip shifted on the energy projection shield, and it fit against his arm as if it was meant to be there, as if it was the real thing. “See if we can't draw some attention and let them work undisturbed.”

Tony gritted his teeth. “If you're taking a power team, you've got some of the participants in the wrong place,” he said. “Gambit's the only one of us with a distance attack right now.”

“And you're going to need his honed practice in getting around the Tower's defenses more than we'll need his ability to take out an attacker,” Steve said.

“All those poker games an' attempts t' peek in your medicine chest, it's all comin' in handy,” Remy said, with a grin. 

“Wanda-” Strange began.

“No, he's right. You can be trusted with the detail work,” she said, shaking her head. “My power's too unpredictable for that. In a fight-” Her hands came out at her sides, her fingers spread, and the flare of light stopped Tony's heart for a second. Her fingers closed tight into fists, and the light was swallowed within her palms. “For blunt force? They're better off trusting in me.”

Strange took a breath. “If you're sure.”

Her chin came up, dark curls spilling over her shoulders. “You always did underestimate the female of our kind,” she said, her lips twitching. “Someday, your streak of chivalry will get you killed.”

“Likely true,” Stephen said, cheerfully resigned. “Something Stark and I have in common.”

“Excuse me, I've been accused of many things,” Tony said. “Chivalry isn't one of them.”

“Watch yourself,” Kitty said, eyelashes fluttering. “You're in the presence of two women who can kill you with a flick of a wrist.” She held up a hand, and for an instant, Wanda just stared at it. “Don't leave me hanging,” Kitty told her, and Wanda's lips twitched. She tapped her palm against Kitty's, and they both grinned at each other for a second.

Steve looked at Tony. “I hate this,” Tony said.

“We're the only ones who know this building. And we stand a better chance of stopping this.”

Tony really hated logic right now. Shaking his head, he slammed the access panel closed. “Alternate routes up?”

Steve's lips twitched. “You've got enough of them.”

“Damn straight.” Tony met his eyes. “You know where the emergency caches are. Comm units first, then weapons.”

“Move fast, stay low,” Steve said, his voice low. He paused, his lips tight.

“Oh, just kiss him,” Kitty said, moving past. Spider-Man and Wanda were right behind her, and the others fell into step. 

“Thank you,” Tony said, and he snagged Steve by the back of the neck, dragging him in for a hard kiss. “Don't die, you noble self-sacrificing dumbass,” he said, his voice low and hard, even to his own ears.

Steve grinned at him. “Rescue our team, find the bad guys, take them out, send everyone home, have dessert,” he said. “Sounds like a plan.”

Tony shook his head. “Give me your phone.”

As he worked, in the background, he heard Falcon say to Spider-Man, “Oh, so they're really dating? I thought you were just fucking with me.”

“Dude, try to keep up.”

“See, this is why I don't talk to you, kid.”

“Why is everyone so focused on my age today?”

“Let's move,” Steve said, and Tony tossed him his phone back. He caught it without looking. “Meet you in the kitchen for ice cream.”

“Is that a double entendre, or is there really ice cream?” Spider-Man asked.

“Let's save the world, shall we, and I'll buy everyone ice cream,” Tony said. At this point, he needed it.

And about a gallon of liquor. 

*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. I promise. I'm sorry, guys, I really am, this one keeps coming and going, and I'm trying to keep my plot threads straight. 
> 
> Please bear with me, okay? I'm going to try to have the last two chapters up by the end of June. 8)
> 
> Trigger warnings for canon appropriate violence, general trauma and injury, and threats of coerced sexual contact and sexual slavery. No actual contact or sexual violence occurs, but the threat is bandied about.

“How often do you find yourself lost within these walls?”

Steve glanced at Wanda, who was easily keeping pace with him, despite her small stature and delicate frame. Her eyes were clear and sharp beneath her dark curls. “I can find my way easily enough,” he said, his voice pitched low. “I know where we're going.”

She glanced away. “You may know the physical layout of the building,” she whispered back. “But you often find yourself lost here. Don't you?”

He paused, just for a beat, his body and his mind, and it was not a pause that he could afford. “Sometimes,” he said. “But I can usually find my bearings eventually.”

Her lips curled up. “Find a lodestar,” she said. “Or let him be one.” She stopped, her hand coming up to brush against the wall. Her fingers barely touched, but the metal seemed to flex beneath the contact, straining. “What floor?”

“What floor are we on, or which one are we headed to?” 

Her head tipped up, her eyes staring at the ceiling as if she could see through it. “Both.”

“We're in the sub basement, we're heading for the last place I saw the rest of our team. It's a long way up,” Steve answered. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off some of the tension that had settled in the muscles there, trying to pull himself back into the moment. He had his team to protect now, and he couldn't afford any distractions. The energy shield, an odd combination of weightless and solid, hung from his hip, not his preferred location, but he wasn't sure he could pull it off his back if he needed it. He wasn't sure of it. He wasn't sure he could depend on it. Somehow, though, he knew he might have to. 

“I want to see if we can locate the rest of the Avengers,” Steve said, trying to focus on the real. Or what passed for real right now. 

“Rescue them?” Wanda asked, her head down. Her red cape trailed behind her like a wisp of fog, bleeding into the darkness.

“If we can.” Steve looked at Falcon, who had taken the rear of their little band. He was fast and light on his feet, his eyes sharp even in the lowered light, his steps silent on the concrete floor. Redwing was hunched low on his shoulder, tail flicking every so often. “If we can find you an outside access point, can you get airborne?” he asked. 

Falcon gave him a quick nod. “Sure,” he agreed, his voice soft. “But I don't want to do it until we have some way to communicate. We got no idea what's outside here.”

“A world like none you've ever seen, and will never see again,” Wanda told him. “We're on another plane of existence.”

“If that's the case, are you sure you can get us home?” Falcon asked her.

“Agatha can. We need to find how she's holding us here,” Wanda told him. “Or what's powering the spell. If we can pull her plug, to put it bluntly, she'll lose her grip on the spell and everything will fall apart.” She shivered, her face twisting. “She is using far too much power, far too fast. And what is worse? She thinks she can control it.”

“You don't think she can?” Steve asked, checking around a corner before he let them follow him down the darkness of the corridor.

“I know she can't. The spells are-” Wanda's face twisted, her nose wrinkling, her mouth screwing up. “I don't know how to describe it. Other than... Bleeding.”

“Wow. Can you find some other way to describe it? Something that's not that?” Spidey was above them, skittering on his hands and the balls of his feet on the ceiling.

“Oozing?” she said. “Oozing power?”

“Let's go back to bleeding, I've decided I have sudden and overwhelming affection for bleeding.”

“This way,” Steve said, pointing at the access elevator. 

“Walking into the lion's den?” Falcon asked. 

“I don't see as how we have much of a choice. However-” Steve propped the door open with a foot. “Spidey, want to be our ace in the hole?” He pointed up at the access panel at the top of the elevator car. 

The kid nodded. “I can do that.” A hop up, and he was opening the panel. 

Falcon and Wanda filed in behind him, and Steve let the door close. However, before he could reach for the buttons, the elevator started moving. Steve bit out a curse. “I think,” he said, pulling his shield off of his hip, “that we're expected.”

The panel slammed shut. “And I think she wants to talk to all of us at once,” Spidey said. “This thing isn't budging now.” His head tipped back. “New plan?”

“Stay behind me,” Steve told him, his voice tense. He rolled his shoulders, bracing his feet. Behind him, Falcon took up a position on his left, Wanda on his right, and Spider-Man clung to the ceiling above them. “And be careful.”

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened into darkness.

Steve stepped out first, the shield up and ready, his eyes sliding over the familiar contours of the room. It seemed like an eternity ago that he'd walked out of here, Tony at his side, feeling foolishly confident about the way the night would go. Now, the room was dark, the faint shapes of furniture and fixtures looming in the shadows, echoes of how things should be.

Outside the windows, the landscape was alien, a roiling mass of dark energy pressing in against the glass. Steve could swear that he could see the thin protection flex against the darkness, the panes vibrating with the wind or something worse. Something much, much worse.

“Hello, my darlings.”

Steve turned, shield up and ready and he was a beat too late, because Wanda was already moving, an explosion of light and force.

“No, no, no!” From the darkness, a soft little giggle, and then an explosion of light.

Steve felt something snag at his wrists, at his legs, at his arms and neck, a force like a rope or a wire, pulling tight against his skin. He felt his feet leave the ground, felt his arms and legs be pulled away from his body, and in a single breath, he was hanging in mid-air, his body caught like a fly in a spider web.

Next to him, he heard Falcon curse, heard a sharp yelp from Spidey, and realized that we were all in the same situation, even as he struggled, his muscles pulling tight against whatever was holding him. There was nothing he could see, but the physical force was there, holding him pinned in midair.

The fire in the fireplace flared, a massive sweep of flames that blinded him for an instant, then it died back into a warm, comforting blaze. On the large black leather couch, a woman was reclining, a wine glass cradled between long fingers, her blood red nails glittering against the darker wine in the goblet. She tipped her head to the side, her beautiful reddish brown hair sliding over her bare shoulders. A tendril curled around her throat, dipping into the swell of her cleavage. She smiled at them, her lips stained with the wine, and her tongue flicked out to sweep away the red.

“Were you expecting someone else?” she asked, propping herself up on one elbow. Her blue gown, clingy and silken, draped over her breasts and hips, sliding up the line of her legs. “Your friends, perhaps?” she asked, her tongue sliding over the rim of the wine glass. “Wrong floor.”

“Where are they?” Steve asked, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. It was much harder than it should've been.

“Safe enough, for now,” she said. She set the glass aside, a moue of unhappiness crossing her beautiful face. “I was so displeased. I was promised six. Six of Earth's mightiest heroes. Six Avengers,” she said, rolling to her feet. “Except two were missing.” Here eyes narrowed at Steve. “And now I've found one. Captain America, I presume.” Her lips curled up. “The man out of time.”

The turn of phrase clicked into place in his head in an instant. “Loki sent you,” he breathed out.

“Sent me?” She giggled. “No, no. But he did give me the information I needed.” Her feet were bare on the stone floor. “He was very useful. Told me everything I needed to know.” Her eyes cut away, sliding over Falcon from head to toe before settling on Wanda. Her nose wrinkled. “And where is the last?” she asked, dismissing the others with a flick of her hand. “Where is the Iron Man?”

“You didn't get him,” Steve said. He gave her a tight smile. “He's faster than me. Trickier.”

“My, my, you are a lousy liar.” She rolled her eyes. “Not to worry. He is somewhere here, and in the meantime, you've brought me extra toys! How kind of you!”

“Who are you?” Falcon asked. “And what the hell do you want?”

“I am Lorelei of Asgard,” she said, her chin coming up, her eyes narrowed. “And I as to what I want? You'll find out, soon enough.”

Wanda let out a little chuckle. “This isn't yours,” she said, sounding surprised, and Lorelei turned towards her. 

“Oh, do you fancy yourself an expert?” Lorelei asked, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. “This should be amusing. What do you think you know, little one?” She scooped her wine glass back up and drained it, dropping the empty goblet to the floor with a disinterested flick of her fingers. It shattered, shards skimming over the floor.

“You have no power, nothing other than what you've borrowed. No. What you've stolen,” Wanda said. “You triggered these traps. But they are not yours. None of this is. You're just a pawn, without the power to change the outcome of the game.”

Lorelei settled back on the couch, her long legs crossing in front of her. Her pale skin gleamed in the firelight, the blue silk of her gown catching the light. She made a face. “Oh, I have power, little one. But why bother wasting time on study or effort, when it's far easier to get others to do it for you?” She stretched, her lithe body pulling the fabric of her dress tight across her breasts. “Men are easily manipulated. And so happy to help, with a little encouragement.”

“And when your charms wear off?” Wanda asked. She arched against the invisible forces holding her in place. “Because they will.”

“A little hint of magic takes over where nature falters,” Lorelei said. She waved an idle hand. “And this world is new. So full of willing servants.”

“Wasn't that Loki's plan?” Falcon asked. “It didn't work out so well for him.”

“Loki made too much noise, wanted too much recognition,” Lorelei said. “For being out lord of lies, he was was too liberal with the truth. It is not a mistake I will make. Crush the resistance, bring the most powerful, the most respected, the most useful under my yoke, then reveal myself. I do not bring an army to bear against the forces of Earth. The forces of earth will be my army, willing to fight for me, desperate to die for me.”

Wanda's fingers pulled into a fist, and Lorelei's lips bloomed into a slow smile. “The trap that holds you will turn any attack you attempt on me back on you. The harder you struggle, the harder it will squeeze. Until you break.”

Wanda's face twisted, and a pink streak of power rolled between her fingers before shooting up the length of her arm. She choked on a cry, and Lorelei giggled. “He warned me that your kind were foolish. And stubborn.” She sighed. “I suppose it's charming. But I find it annoying.”

“At least,” Wanda breathed out, “my power is my own. And not the result of some trick.”

“Your power might be your own, bit it is inadequate. Do you think you can break free?” Lorelei said, her voice mocking as she circled Wanda, her lips curled up in a wicked little smile. Her hips swayed, her feet just brushed the ground as she moved. “I doubt it. My power might not be fully mine, but it is more than enough to keep you under control.”

Wanda twisted, her body and her expression going wild.

“How interesting. No control,” Lorelei whispered, leaning in. “No intelligence. Just a surplus of power. Just a wild little savage.” She reached out, her long, delicate fingers cupping Wanda's chin, forcing her head up. Lorelei's head tipped to the side, her expression considering. “Not much of a sorceress.” One nail tapped the middle of Wanda's forehead. “But crack you open, lay you bare, and you might be a fairly decent energy source. Unstable. But after all, you're only human. And no human should be carrying power like yours. It's little more than a waste.”

A fission of pink energy swirled around Wanda's hand, rolling around her wrist, her fingers. It lingered like a spark near her palm, then stuttered out. Lorelei gave it a pitying look. “Are you still trying to fight back?” she said, biting down on her lower lip. “Far greater sorcerers and enchanters than you have fallen prey to my traps, and none have gotten out. As long as I pull your strings-” She rolled her fingers up, and Wanda cried out, her shoulders arched back, her whole body flexing. Her face was white, her teeth bared, her eyes wild. The sparks curled against her palm, shot back up her arm, jumping, skittering, unstable and crackling in the air. Wanda sucked in a breath, loud in the silence of the room.

“You're only going to hurt yourself,” Lorelei said. “Not that I mind.” She gave a little giggle. “It's fun to watch, actually.”

“Leave her alone,” Steve gritted out, struggling against the ironclad grip of the magic that held him in place.

Lorelei turned away, meeting Steve's eyes, smiling at him. There was something there, in her face, in her eyes, that was a perversion of a mother's smile, understanding and sweet and accepting, and he pulled hard against his invisible bonds. She made a tsking noise, shaking her head. “No, no, no. Don't bother.” She stepped in front of him, her head tilted back, her lips curled up. She smoothed her hands down his chest, her nails scraping against his stomach, and Steve recoiled from her. She laughed. “So unwilling now. Don't worry, there are ways around that, darling boy.”

Her head rolled to the side. “Such pretty men this place produces,” she mused, her chin resting on Steve's chest, her long lashes veiling her eyes. “I may yet enjoy this little scheme. I was bored until now, but-” One finger traced up the center of Steve's chest, lingering over his breastbone, and then slid back down, along the flexing plane of his stomach. “I have always had a talent for love potions.”

Her lips were so close to his skin now that Steve could feel the heat of her breath. “One sip, one breath, and you'll be mine, my perfect, pretty toys.”

“Wow, you do realize you're nuts, right? This is- This is a thing you do?” Spidey said, his voice holding a certain note of disgust or hysteria. “Because wow. No. Have you considered just, you know, having a nice discussion with a guy, because a lot of us are pretty easy, you really can just show some sign of interest and most of us are just like, hey, hot redhead, that's a okay with me.”

Lorelei chuckled. “You are just a precious little boy, aren't you?” she said, one hand gathering her skirts up as she wandered over to Spider-Man. “Will I be your first?” she said, laughing. She found the edge of his mask and peeled it up, revealing the long line of his throat and the strong angle of his jaw. He jerked back, trying to pull away from her, and she just chuckled. 

“Wow, that's a really invasive, personal question, and I'm gonna decline to answer,” Spidey said.

“Feel free. While you still can.” Wanda said something, too low, too rough to be heard, and Lorelei glanced at her. “Oh, are you still awake? I admit, I'm impressed. All that struggle, for nothing. All of that, and you didn't even manage to get in a single shot. That's pathetic, you know that, right? And I've no use for you. The others, well, I can find a place for them at the foot of my throne, but you? You are nothing but trouble, and too much effort to keep you in line.”

Wanda slurred something else, her head down, her hair an impenetrable curtain in front of her face. Lorelei stalked over, one hand snagging Wanda by her throat and forcing her head up. “What?” she snarled, leaning in. “What do you want? Last words? Is it time for that already? Then let's have them.” Her free hand came up, up above her head, a ball of crackling green energy forming between her clawed fingers. She grinned, triumphant and manic. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Wanda exhaled. “Control,” she breathed, “is overrated.”

A spark of light, an explosion like thunder, and she moved. Her arm snapped in, pulling in through her elbow, close to her body and back out, a surgical, precision strike. Her fist collided with Lorelei's throat, magic giving her more force than her muscles could have managed, and just like that, the sorceress was pitching backwards. She hit the ground with a thud, and everyone else tumbled to the ground after her.

Steve landed in a crouch, his body finding its center of balance even as he fell. Spider-Man hit and was bouncing back up in an instant, flinging himself up, ricocheting towards the ceiling. Falcon was breathing hard, but he was on his feet, his hands up and braced an instant later.

Wanda went down in a limp pile. Before Steve could reach her, one hand came out, a fist bracing her weight on the floor, and she pushed her way up, her breathing coming fast and sharp. Her cheeks were flushed, but her smile was bright and real. “That's the thing about us savages,” she gritted out, even as she pushed herself to her feet. She took Falcon's hand, letting him help her up. She swayed on unsteady legs, but she was upright in an instant. “When all else fails, we have no objections to biting.”

“Damn, girl,” Spidey said from the ceiling, making her laugh.

Steve crouched down over Lorelei. Thin sparks of pink energy were still rolling over her skin, and she jerked on the ground. “What did you do?”

“Feedback,” she said, leaning against Falcon. “Poured power into the binding spell. It was structured to hold up against large, hard bursts of energy. But keep the power low and sustained, and eventually it gives way. Most people can't sustain the push that long, so the spell couldn't handle it.” She took a breath. “Hurts like hell, though.”

“It was a hell of a hit,” Steve said, smiling up at Wanda. “She gonna recover?” Steve stripped his tie off of his neck. He pulled her arms back and started tying her wrists at the small of her back.

Wanda huff out a breath. “Eventually,” she said. “And that won't hold her.”

“It's what we've got,” he said.

“Tony Stark lives here, you've got to have better restraints than a tie and on second thought I don't know what I'm talking about I'm just going to shut up now,” Spidey said.

“Good idea, kid,” Falcon told him, huffing out a breath. 

“I'd appreciate that,” Steve said, his voice choked. Gripping the ends of the tie, he gave it a firm tug, pulling the knots tight, only to have it close on nothing. Lorelei vanished in a flicker of light, and he was left holding a useless piece of silk. “Well, damn,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “Wanda? What just happened here?”

Wanda wiped a hand over her mouth. “Someone else is steering this thing,” she gritted out. “Traps within traps within traps. And none of them of Lorelei's making. She was just the bait.” She clutched her forehead, her face going pinched and white. “This doesn't make sense.”

“Hell. She was a diversionary tactic,” Falcon said. He looked at the others, brown eyes narrowed into angry slits. “Just like we are.” 

“So who the hell are we dealing with?” Spidey asked. “Can someone please give me a scorecard or a cheat sheet or a spoiler post or something?”

“I don't know, but I'd like to find out,” Steve said, running towards the bar. The hidden drawer beneath the marble top slid open easily enough, and he pulled out a thin case. “I think we need to change our tactics.”

“We need to go,” Wanda said. “And tactics or not? This is going to come down to two things. The shield. And the shielded.”

“What does that mean?” Falcon asked, a bit of frustration bleeding into the words.

She looked at him. “I don't know. Yet.”

“Then let's go figure it out,” Steve said. “Before Tony and the others get caught in the same trap we did.”

*

“So, how many of you can fly?” Tony asked. Strange raised a hand. “Not you, no one likes you,” Tony told him.

“Well, you did ask,” Kitty pointed out. “And you already knew the answer. Unless you're checking to see who needs to borrow a suit. I've always wanted to try one of your suits.”

“Wow. No. That won't be happening. Ever.”

She sighed. “Worth a try.”

“I can fly,” Strange said to Kitty. “You want a ride?”

“That is the weirdest pick up line I've ever heard,” she said. “In that it is a literal pick up line.”

“I'd take him up on the offer, petite,” Remy said, staring up into the dark hollow of the service stairs. “Easier then walkin', for true.”

“We're not walking. Well. Not far.” Tony crouched down, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Remy, there's a fire suppression panel there on the left hand side. Can you grab me the fire extinguisher?”

“No' sure where this is goin', but sure.” Gambit cracked the panel, pulling the extinguisher out and handing it over.

“Just calling for some back up.” With the panache of a man pulling the pin on a grenade, Tony activated the fire extinguisher and sprayed the floor with a liberal hand. “That should do it.”

“What are you doing, exactly?” Strange asked.

“Jarvis seems to be offline,” Tony said, straightening up, “but there are certain redundancy systems I can use. I just need to get up to one of the supplemental workshops. About twenty floors up.” He swung the extinguisher against his side, counting off the passage of time in his head. “I could use a lift from someone who isn't Strange.”

“What are you-”

The faint whirr was the only warning they got before the Roomba came floating down the stairway. “Hi, buddy,” Tony said, putting a gentle foot down on top of the hockey puck shaped bot. “Call out the troops. We need a lift.” It vibrated under his foot, its sensor grid taking in the size of the mess. “Yeah, yeah, I know, big one, don't get too excited.”

“I know you're not going to answer me, but, what-”

“The Roombas can work without Jarvis running herd on them,” Tony said. “Hive mind. Unless they've been shut down, they just keep going, looking for things to clean. And when one finds a mess too big to handle, well, the immediate reaction is to call for help.” He let the bot slide free from his foot, and leaned over to scoop it up. “And the repulsors give us a enough of a upward push to carry us up a few flights of stairs.”

“You're suggesting we ride Roombas,” Strange said.

“You can fly. I will ride Roombas. These two can do what they want,” Tony said, hooking a thumb towards Remy and Kitty.

“I'm game,” Kitty said, grinning.

“I've gotten on worse,” Remy said. “An' these, at least, don't bite.”

“Mostly true,” Tony said. Half a dozen Roombas had already appeared, and he looked them all over, frowning. “Keep an eye out for one with a red cross on the casing.” To keep them busy until he'd gathered a few more, Tony sprayed the wall with the fire extinguisher, setting off a full scale attack. 

“Red cross?” Strange asked.

“Mr. Fantastic the Special Roomba,” Tony said, frowning. “He should be here by now; he's the smartest one. If Jarvis is offline, he's in charge by default.”

“Unless he's been damaged,” Kitty said, crouching down to pick one of the Roombas up. She flipped it over, grinning down at it.

“Possible, but not probable,” Tony said. “Due to certain... Rational fears involving Agent Coulson using him for target practice, he's been upgraded quite a lot. Bulletproof, bombproof, heavy duty casing and double the speed and thrust as the others.” He paused. “A little unstable, we haven't compensated for that yet, but it's a work in progress.”

The building shuddered, and everyone froze. “Don't think we go the luxury of waitin' fo' your favorite,” Remy said, his voice low.

“Hate to say you're right, but you're right.” Tony snagged the nearest Roomba. “Grab a ride,” he said, waiting until Remy and Kitty had snagged one each before he triggered the emergency reset. Shifting his grip, he held on tight as the whole group shot upwards, heading back to the nearest charging stations. “Hold on!”

The ride up was fast and rather unstable, but Tony clung to the Roomba's casing with both hands, his teeth gritted as they shot up through the darkness. The handful of unencumbered bots outpaced them easily, and when they reached the landing, the Roombas were already bouncing lightly against the closed door that blocked their way. Tony let go, landing lightly on the balls of his feet as his ride went to join the pack.

“Please let me have one of these,” Kitty said, kneeling on hers. She hopped off, skipping across the floor with light feet. 

“Do no',” Remy said, landing with a flutter of his coat, his hands spread wide on the floor. “Please. She'll wreck havoc.”

“Build your own,” Tony said, fishing in his pocket for his wallet and his passkey. He knew it was a long shot, but he swiped the card anyway. The door remained stubbornly shut.

Stephen, floating in a swirl of light, didn't bother to step down to the ground. He hovered in mid-air, his arms spread wide. “Problem?” he asked Tony.

“Doors lock automatically if the system's offline,” Tony said, prying the edge of the panel up. “For evacuation purposes, you can get into the staircase from the upper floors, but you can't open the doors from this side. Give me a second.”

Strange reached over his shoulder, and gripped the handle of the door. His hand glowed, and the door flexed in his grip. An instant later, the door popped open. “There we go,” he said. 

“I hate that,” Tony said, pulling the door open. The Roombas rushed in around his feet, skittering up the hallway.

“You're welcome.”

At the small, out of the way workshop, more a repair station than anything else, the Roombas headed for their charging station, and Tony headed for the hardwired computer console. “C'mon, Jarvis,” he muttered. “Where are you, buddy?” 

“Can I help?” Kitty asked, and Tony waved her towards a computer bank. He learned from his mistakes; there were half a dozen of them around the tower, decentralizing the systems. It wasn't foolproof, but in the case of a failure or an attack, it increased the chances that Tony could get things up and running in a timely manner.

“See if you can get anything pulled up,” he said. “I've got a secondary reboot sequence, but I'd like to avoid using it, if at all possible.” 

She glanced over, even as she pulled out the keyboard attached to the mainframe. “Why?”

“It hurts.” Tony bounced his fist off of the workstation. “C'mon, c'mon. We've got power, we've got general systems, the lights are still on, the arc reactor's still here, what's the problem?”

“Tony?” Kitty called. “I think someone has already tried to get into this.”

“That's not possible, it's-” Tony crossed the room, hovering over her shoulder. He frowned down at the compact monitor. The run of data was obvious, but he couldn't figure out where the access was attempted. “Who the hell-” He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. We don't have time for this.” 

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeve. “Remy, there's a locked cabinet in the back, marked as supplies. Get it open? There should be some basic weapons, and a first aid kit.”

“On it.”

Tony pulled a panel off of one of the frames. Kitty, just behind him, caught his arm. “What are you doing? What is this?”

Tony gave her a tight smile. “You lose control of your systems often enough, and you decide that maybe you're sick of that happening. Usual biometrics don't really do the trick, but-” He flexed his hand into a fist. “I figured out a way to do a force restart.”

Gritting his teeth, Tony jammed his arm into the dark space behind the false panel. The pressure triggered the system, and he had an instant to brace himself before the burn of electrical shock pulsed up his arm. He swore, the word hissed out from between clenched teeth, and then he was wrenching his arm back out. “Fuck, that hurts,” Tony grumbled, gripping his forearm. Blood welled between his fingers, dripping to the floor.

There was a whirr and a faint tone. Tony glanced up. “Jarvis? You with me, buddy?”

“I am, sir. My apologies for being derelict in my duties,” Jarvis' voice got stronger on every word, scratchy uneven skipping syllables giving way to his usual calm and modulated tones. “Bringing systems back online now.”

“What happened?” Tony asked. Remy caught his arm, pressing a gauze pad against the puncture wound on Tony's wrist. 

“I am uncertain,” Jarvis said. “My systems are unresponsive, and I have little data to go on. However, there is something interfering with some of my controls.”

“Push through it, we need you,” Tony said.

“What did you just do?” Kitty asked. She peered at the access port. 

“Make a physical connection. Force a physical connection, and that triggers a forced reset of the system, no matter what the situation. Little blood sacrifice, and I get my tower back. It stings, but if anyone without my blood and biometrics tries it, they get fried. So don't get any ideas.” Tony shook out his fingers. “Jarvis, we need your help. We're looking for the rest of the team. Location?”

“Searching.”

“This seems unhealthy,” Kitty said.

“That is the definition of my relationship with my tech, can we please move on?” Tony asked. He strode over to the console, where a map of the tower was flickering into existence, the holographic display rotating and forming up, floor by floor.

“Feelin' better 'bout the people we gotta work with right about now,” Remy said. He tossed a couple of weapons onto the counter next to Tony. Tony snagged a couple of repulsor discs, setting them against his palms and wrapping the wires under his shirt sleeves. He snagged the jacket and pulled it back on, which was probably stupid, but he felt better with a little more covering, considering the situation.

“Largest concentration of vital signs is here.” The map flashed, and Tony frowned.

“That's a, what, conference space?” he asked. “Just a big, empty room?”

“Are they herding people in there?” Kitty asked.

“Shall we check?” Remy asked, his teeth flashing. “We could use all the help we can get, yes?”

“Can't hurt.” Tony turned back to the others. “Stairs, elevator or-” He glanced at Strange. “I don't suppose you'll be of any help here?”

“I can move us,” Strange said. “But it's hard to pull this many for any distance. I'll be able to do it, but I can't promise I'll be able to do it again.” He gave them a tight smile. “I'm operating far from home, and without my usual support, and my power's waning low.”

“How far are we going?” Kitty asked. She glanced at the map. “Two floors up, right? Don't be lazy, Tony. We can walk.”

“It's been a long damn day, I know you don't know what that's like, but I had a full day of work, then I had to fend off ice monsters that wanted to crush my spine. And in between I had a date. A first date with someone you actually like is very, very stressful, and it is something you would know nothing about, because you are like eight years old.”

“You sound like my father,” Kitty told him. “Keep dreaming old man, and let's get to walking.”

“Brat. Infant brat,” Tony told her. He took a roll of gauze tape from Remy. “Thanks.” He pulled a strip free and ripped it off with his teeth. Remy was staring at him with an unreadable expression. “What?” Tony asked, wrapping his arm.

“Cap know 'bout this little protocol of yours?” Remy asked.

“We could fill a book with the things that Cap doesn't know and I would prefer to keep that a big, big book,” Tony said, cutting a glance in his direction. “We understand each other?”

Remy's mouth kicked up on one side. “Think that book ain't got near as many pages as you're thinkin',” 

“I prefer to live in denial, thanks.” Tony nodded the the assorted weapons. “Stick those in some of those unending pockets of yours?”

“I can't use most of 'em,” Remy said, already reaching for them.

“But hopefully we'll meet someone who can. Let's go.”

*

Tony glanced around, his eyes tracing over the room. “Oh, hell,” he said, his voice small in the silence.

The expansive room was full of rows of people. Still and quiet and hanging limp in midair, they filled the space, dozens and dozens stretching out all around them. Horrified, Tony moved forward, his eyes darting over every single face, every form, looking for his team, looking for Bruce and Pepper and even Steve.

“All vital signs are stable,” Jarvis said, immediately. “They seem to merely be asleep.”

Strange put up a hand, and his dart of magical power was met and repulsed. “Something is keeping them asleep, but I don't think it's harming them.”

“All the tower's occupants,” Tony said, his voice low. “Anyone that wasn't on the personal floors. It was late, so there wouldn't have been all that many, but still. Building this big is never empty, no matter what the hour.”

Kitty walked between the floating rows of people, hanging like coats on a rack in midair. “I don't see anyone I know,” she said, her voice tight. “No, wait. This guard. She's the one by the elevator banks, right? Elizabeth, I think.” She reached out, her hand touching the sleeping woman's. “How did they all get here?” 

“They are being moved,” Jarvis said. He paused, a moment of silence that stretched out in between the words. “Sir, more systems are coming back online. There is-”

The door opened, and an Iron Man suit walked in, carrying a man in a janitor's uniform. The man tumbled to the ground, and the suit's arm came up, repulsors charging with a whine. 

“Jarvis?” Tony asked, retreating fast, his own repulsor covered hand coming up. “Is there anyone in that thing?”

“No, the suit does it have an occupant, nor is it under my control.”

“Fine, I-”

Before he could move a single muscle, Kitty simply dove forward, passing through the suit, and it jerked, twitched, and collapsed into a pile. The pieces rattled against each other, sparks flying from an exposed joint. Kitty turned and slammed an immaterial foot through the suit's chest, and it went still, the eye slits going dark slowly.

Tony sucked in a breath. “Remind me not to piss you off,” he said to Kitty, who grinned.

Next to him, Remy's hands came down, the cards between his knuckles bleeding power until they were plain white paper again. “Gotta love how easy she makes that look.” 

“It is easy,” Kitty said. Her smile was perilously close to a smirk. 

“Additional armors are converging on your location,” Jarvis said. 

“We have to get out of here,” Tony said. “Before there's shooting in here, and we start losing people.”

“We head for the stairs?” Remy asked, shifting his cards and his bo staff into position.

“If they don't block the way, that'll probably be the best choice.”

“How many of these things do you have hanging around?” Kitty asked, her eyes wide.

“A few. I've been... Tinkering,” Tony said. “Jarvis, how many are active?”

“All twenty-three suits are currently activated and moving through the corridors of the Tower,” Jarvis said. “Their systems are active. My attempts to regain control are being resisted.”

“Wonderful.” Tony adjusted the repulsors on his arms. “How many are headed in this direction?”

“Unknown. Certain systems are not responding properly.”

Remy glanced at Kitty. “Wanna check the corridor for us?”

“On it.” She slid halfway through the wall, returning in a matter of seconds. “The hallway's is clear for now, but I can hear them coming, and it's either a bad echo, or they're coming in from both directions. If we want to move, we should do it now.”

Tony looked at Remy. “I'll take left, you take right, Kitty-”

“I'll take both,” she said, giving them a grin. 

Strange folded his legs, seating himself several feet off the floor. His hands came up to hover over the peaks of his knees, his coat swirling beneath him. “I'll give us what protection I can,” he said, his eyes falling closed. “But my range is limited. Stay close.”

“Ready?” Remy said, crouched low, cards balanced between his knuckles. 

He was right, the sound of mechanical joints and heavy metal treads on the floor were echoing in their direction. Moving as one, they moved into the corridor. Through the dim burn of the emergency lights, Tony could make out the gleam of armor and bright eye slits. He sucked in a breath and adjusted the repulsors on his palms. “Hold,” Tony said. “Strange? Can you hold back actual fire?”

“Yes. But not too many direct hits, so let's try to make this quick,” the sorcerer said.

“Tony?” Kitty said, her feet skimming over the floor as she twisted, lithe and easy and graceful. With a dancer's accuracy, she marked the position of every attacker, her head snapping around an instant behind the rest of her body. “What are we doing here?”

“Take them out, and clear us a path,” Tony said, and Kitty moved.

He'd known she could do it; when she phased through a mechanical or electrical object, the results were catastrophic. But knowing about it and seeing her do it were two very different things. Especially on this kind of a scale.

She plowed through the armors, one after another, her body a living threat to the armor's systems. As she passed through, immaterial as any ghost, the armors spazzed and twisted, systems losing their power and control. Tony took shot after shot, narrow beams that cut through the remains. 

At his back, Remy was tossing cards with brilliant precision, hitting weak spots and damaging joints. Armors twisted, crashing into the walls and into each other, not able to get enough space from the walls or each other to build up speed or get fully off the ground.

“The way forward,” Jarvis said, “is clear, I would suggest you advance.”

Kitty came to rest, her feet skipping across the ground, for only a second or two, long enough to draw a deep breath and release it. “I've got point,” she said, and she was a ghost again, dashing forward, her ponytail waving like a flag in her wake. Tony had a moment to grieve for the remains of his armors, and then he was stepping over and through the wreckage, moving after Kitty without a second's pause. He needed a drink so badly right now, it wasn't even funny.

There was less resistance on the way to the stairs, and once they were through the door, Tony slammed it shut and closed his hand over the knob, pushing a repulsor pulse through it. The knob melted, metal spitting and crackling.

Kitty slid back through the door. “Nothing's coming,” she said, exhaling hard. “Either we got most of them, or who ever's controlling them decided to let us go.”

“I find I don't much care which one it is,” Remy said. “Up or down?”

“Jarvis, how're we doing?” Tony asked. 

“Systems at 80% percent,” Jarvis said.

“Do we have surveillance systems?” 

“Yes.”

“Good.” Tony started up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his heart pounding. “Up. Let's find out who we're dealing with.”

The security office was empty and quiet, the door swinging loose on its hinges. Tony nudged it open, his eyes darting over the consoles. “Jarvis, give us-

The monitors clicked on, one after another, all of them showing the same scene. The living room at the top of the tower, the same expansive, open room where he and Steve's date had begun that night, where they'd left the team behind, having a drink and sharing a joke.

They were still there.

On the couch in the center of the camera image, a beautiful blonde woman was curled up, her long, curvy legs tucked up under her. Thor was sprawled across the couch, his form and face still and limp, his head resting in the woman's lap. She was smiling up at the camera, clearly aware that she was being watched. “I see you,” she whispered, sweet and warm. “And don't be concerned. I can hear you, too.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tony braced his hands on the console, leaning in. Frustrated, furious, he stared down at her. “Who the hell are you?”

“The one who holds your life in her hands,” she said, smiling. “As to a true introduction, perhaps that should occur in person.” She flicked a hand at the silent, sleeping forms of the others. “I'm so looking forward to completing my collection. The Avengers. Don't they look lovely? So peaceful.”

Kitty was behind him, her body warm against the back of Tony's shoulder. “Something's missing,” she said, the words barely having form, and Tony nodded.

Something was missing. Or rather, someone was missing.

Because behind the blonde were Jane, Darcy, Bruce, Phil and Pepper. Thor was in her lap, still as any statue. “Not a full collection,” he said.

“Don't be concerned,” she said, smiling. “My newest metal monsters have gone to collect Captain America. And his little friends.” Her eyes shuttered. “They ran into a slight... Snag. And my sister is ever happy to make the acquaintance of a handsome man.”

Tony stared the the woman down. “What do you want?” he asked.

“Only what is my due.” She stroked her fingers through Thor's hair, playing with the strands, one by one. “The God of Thunder as my consort, and this world as a stepping stone to greater power.” 

“Heard that one before. Well, not the consort part, that's new, and somehow worse.” Tony gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Hasn't worked out so well for anyone else that tried it.”

“Loki was a fool, led astray by emotional and pain.” She smiled down at Thor's still face. “I know better then he.” She switched her smile up towards the camera. “Come and see me. This one, I have use for.” She leaned over and brushed a kiss over Thor's forehead. Her eyes flicked over her shoulder to where the others hung, as if encased in crystal. “The others? Are expendable. 

“You have ten minutes to join me, all of you, or I will dispose of one.” Her eyes fluttered. “Shall you choose which one? One of Lord Thor's little trollops? Or the monster while he still sleeps as a man?”

“Don't touch them,” Tony gritted out. “I swear, if you-”

“Time slips by, unconcerned by what you think of it,” she said, amused. “If you wish to save them? Best you start running.” With a faint, warm laugh, she raised her hand and pointed a finger at the camera. The monitors went dark.

“Fuck,” Tony gritted out. “What the hell is she playing at?”

“Best we go find out, yes?” Remy said.

“Yeah.” Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Jarvis, I need your help here.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Do you think a frontal assault is a good idea?” Kitty asked.

“I think we've got a couple of aces in the hole,” Tony said. “She's made a mistake.”

“She doesn't have everyone,” Remy said.

“She doesn't have everyone. But she thinks she has everyone,” he said, his voice low. He finished his task and shoved his phone away. “We saw the 'collection' down stairs. All the guards, the security people, the staff. She thinks she's got the Avengers, now that we're here.

“But Hawkeye and Widow are missing,” Tony said, his teeth locking. “She doesn't know us. She's operating on second hand information.” He glanced at them, his eyes wide. “And her intel's no good. Steve and I were gone,” Tony continued. “She could tell that, at a glance, and assumed that was the problem.”

“Except her problem is, she looked at the people that she did catch, an' assumed she had the right ones,” Remy said.

“She knows Thor,” Tony said, trying to reason through it. “And Jane and Darcy. Bruce, she wouldn't know Bruce, but Loki would've warned her about him. And two other humans.” He blinked at Strange. “A redheaded woman and an average looking man. That's Pepper Potts. And Phil Coulson.” He breathed out, thin and sharp. “She's missing a couple of Avengers, and she has no idea. Either Loki didn't bother to describe them particularly well, or she didn't listen.”

“Why should she?” Kitty asked. “She seems to have little respect for humanity. I doubt she considered them a threat.”

“So, that becomes the question. If you can't see the hawk, how do you know the hawk can't see you?” Strange asked. “If you find the web, can you determine the spider's prey?”

“What the hell are they playing at? And where the hell are they?” Tony asked, frowning. He took a deep breath. "We're bleeding time. Strange? Think it's time you use that one good jump of yours."


	8. Chapter 8

“Your elevator plays 'The Girl from Ipanema?'”

“Listen,” Tony said, doing his best to hold still, and it was so difficult. “If you have an elevator, you play actual elevator music in it, that's only logical.” He glanced at the mirrored wall, not even fighting the impulse any more. The reflection was exactly what he was expecting: Dr. Stephen Strange, Iron Man and Gambit. He let out a faint sigh.

“We sure 'bout this?” Remy said under his breath. His eyes were on the panel above the elevator doors, where the numbers were rolling by at a steady tick.

“Time to trust our teammates,” Tony said. He glanced at his companions as the elevator reached its final destination. “Ready?” He didn't ask them if they knew what they were doing, he didn't ask if they could carry about their tasks. That time was past. 

Both of them nodded, and Tony released a breath. “Okay, Strange,” he muttered. “Let's hope you can pull this off.”

“I got faith,” Remy said, his hands linking around the shaft of his bo, his chin resting against his linked fingers. “He'll play the game. We still got some tricks up our sleeve.”

“Tony closed his eyes. “Find her power source,” he said, and the elevator came to a stop.

Remy grinned, eyes sparking behind the shaggy fall of his bangs. “Showtime,” he said, straightening up. He swung his staff in a neat circle, and toss it against his shoulder.

The doors opened, and Tony was expecting the sense in front of him, but it still stopped the breath in his lungs. 

The pale blond was on the couch, Thor cradled in her lap, both of them lit by the fire in the central fireplace. Around them, a macabre display, the other occupants of the tower hung in the air, still as death and silent, the firelight flickering on their faces, carving deep shadows there.

The woman looked up as they stepped out of the elevator. “Right on time,” she said, smiling. “Welcome.” When none of them spoke, she let out a sigh. “Naughty, naughty. All of you have been such trouble. You and your wicked toys. Causing my sister such problems. I am getting annoyed.”

“That so?” Remy asked, amused. “An' who, exactly, are you?”

“I am Amora, the Enchantress, the greatest of wielder of magic that Asgard has ever seen,” she said. She leaned forward, her lips ghosting over Thor's forehead. He didn't move. “And the rightful wife of Thor, the God of Thunder.”

“I take it he doesn't agree with that assessment,” Remy said.

“He will come around to the idea, soon enough,” Amora said, slipping free of his weight, and coming to her feet. With a flick of her hand, she raised Thor's still body from the couch and sent him to hang with the others, a perfect figure in the night dark room. “I thought I had told all of you to come. You're missing the scrawny little girl. Well, no matter, I will locate her soon enough, and the others, now that I have you.”

Without waiting for a reply, she stretched her arms over her head, her back arching, her hips taking up an extra sway as she walked towards Gambit. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, her mouth curling up in a wicked smile. “You are far more interesting. You have a spark or two.” 

“Have been told a time or two,” Remy said, his accent a rolling purr. His head tipped down, his eyes tilted up, he smiled at her.

“Oh, think you can worm your way into my good graces?” Amora asked, her eyebrows arched.

“Seems as if that might be a possibility,” Remy said, not resisting as her fingers cupped his chin, her nails ghosting against his skin, leaving faint red lines in the wake of her touch. Remy didn't flinch, his long lashes held low over his eyes, and she leaned in.

“What pretty eyes you have,” Amora breathed, her own going narrow. “But there is far too much fire within them. I wouldn't trust you.”

Remy grinned, teeth brilliant white against his tan skin. “Since when is trust necessary to take a lover?” His laughter was almost a physical touch. “I like a hint of danger in mine.”

“I prefer my bedmates to be a bit more... Pliable,” Amora said, the words a breathy sigh. She patted him lightly on the middle of his chest. “My sister is unreliable, but she will be enamored of your charms, I have no doubt.” She gave a faint, cold laugh. “And she's amenable to sharing.”

Remy arched an eyebrow. “How cosmopolitan of her,” he said, unruffled.

“That she is.” Turning away, Amora considered Iron Man. Walking up to him, she rapped lightly on the face plate of the armor, and Tony flinched. She smiled up at the helmet. “What ever did you think you could do in this little toy?” she asked. “Did you think my spell would fail with you inside? That your will could outweigh my magic?”

Her hand came up, her fingers curling up into the flat of her palm, each digit leaving a faint green flicker in its wake. “And what will become of you?” She glanced to the side. “And you.

“Doctor Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme.” Her head towards him, her eyes narrowed into slits. “I expected more of a threat from you. Honestly, I had been a bit concerned for your presence, but-” Her finger tapped against her lips. “You're barely indistinguishable from any other human. What magic you have is a faint echo. If I take away your bits and bobbles, things fallen to this rock from far greater places? Will there be anything left?” She stepped up, leaning in, her lips parted. “It's almost like-”

Her eyes went wide, and Tony brought his hand up, repulsor falling into place on his palm, and he fired. She stumbled backwards, barely getting a shield up in time, and Tony shed the rest of Strange's illusion. “Sorry, I think,” he gritted out, Strange's coat swirling around him as he scrambled backwards, “you've mistaken me for someone else.”

“Stark,” she gritted out, and her hand lashed out, an explosion of green light tearing through the air. 

The Iron Man armor intercepted it, rocking under the blow, but staying upright. Its arms came up, repulsors firing, and Amora retreated, her hands coming up to steady a shield between her and them. Using the suit's fire for cover, Tony ran for the bar, shedding Strange's heavy coat as he went, his feet flying over the marble of the floor. “Jarvis,” he yelled over the sound of shattering glass and cracking stone, “do we have confirmation on the energy signature?”

“Affirmative,” Jarvis said. 

“Time for that jump, Strange!” Tony said, sliding behind the bar, and just before he found cover, he saw the swirl of brilliant light that coalesced into the familiar forms of Strange, Wanda, and Steve, the three of them flickering into existence in an instant. Amora lashed out, a crack of green lighting aimed at them before they were even solid, and Steve had the shield up and ready. He caught the blow of energy full on, his feet sliding on the marble. The momentary cover was all that Wanda needed, she was already running, and then, her feet just left the ground. 

It was eerie, watching her slim form take flight, pink light swirling around her hands and her body floating as if weightless. For an instant, Tony's breath stopped in his throat as the girl shot across the room, above the battle, and came down in the midst of the sleeping Avengers. She took a deep breath, he didn't hear it, he saw it, saw the flex of her shoulders and her back, and then she was gone, and all of them were gone with her.

Amora let out a howl, rage shaking the foundation of the building, but Strange had stepped out now to meet her, his lips moving with words that Tony couldn't hear, but it was enough to rock Amora back on her heels. She brought her hands up and sent him flying, and when Steve moved forward, she swung, one glowing fist catching him on the shield and sending him crashing across the floor.

“Enough,” she gritted out. “You little fools!” Her shoulders rose and fell, her hair swinging with a crackle of energy as she moved. “I will see to it-”

The armor's repulsors fired, the suit a missile that was flying straight at her, and she brought up one hand, catching it in mid-air. Pinned, it floated there, heat and energy building up until it vibrated. Amora smirked in Tony's direction. “Hold still, little bug,” she said. “If you want to play rough, I will oblige you.”

“Oh, I'm not playing,” Tony said. “But she is.”

Kitty ghosted out of the suit, falling through it, and through the floor, with a smirk and a little wiggle of her fingers. The suit, already almost at the point of overload, exploded like a bomb. Amora went crashing into the wall, the stone cracking with the impact, and Kitty came back up next to Tony. “How do you DO that?” she said, her breath coming in hard pants. “It's damn claustrophobic in that thing!”

“You get used to it.” Tony pressed his hand to his ear. “Bring it in, boys.”

The wide expanse of glass separating the room from the landing pad shattered, Spidey and Falcon coming through the disintegrating panels. “You're up,” Tony told Kitty, who was already moving.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” she said, and then she was running full out. “Jarvis better be right about this!”

“Jarvis is right. Jarvis, kill the fire,” Tony said.

“Yes, sir.” 

In the fireplace, the massive fire went out all at once, the gas that fueled it cut off. In the grate, an oval stone, glowing with a cool pink light, was left behind. Amora, shaking her head as if dizzy, lunged for it, but Kitty was faster.

The glass was still falling to ruined shards as she went immaterial, passing through the fireplace like a ghost. She slipped through, and her hand flicked out, tangibility a momentary thing, and then she was snagging the stone, her body an arc as she tumbled forward like the dancer she was. She hit, rolled, and lept forward, her legs pushing her up and out.

Spidey snagged her in the middle of her leap, snatching her close with one arm and snapping his legs to the side, pushing them out in a wide arc. Her body passed within an inch or two of Gambit, who slipped past them without missing a beat, his body swaying as if hit by a wind in their wake. He was firing even as the two teens passed him, a barrage of cards flying with a brutal sort of precision.

Snarling, Enchantress retreated a step, hands coming up to form a barrier against the sparking pink energy. Gambit's cards hit and exploded, knocking her back on her heels, buying Spidey and Kitty a few precious seconds to clear out, her body curled tight against his, his forward momentum a streak of red against the night sky.

Gambit got in another hit, then she had enough of a window to shoot back, green energy arcing from her fingers, ripping through the air, shattering nearby glass, and he went flying, crashing into a couch, and toppling over the back. He hit and rolled and was back on his feet as soon as he could get them under him, bouncing across the floor and the furniture with amazing speed.

Falcon hit her from behind, his feet impacting with the back of her head and knocking her forward, but she reached up with one hand and sent a wave of energy in his direction. He dodged, his body twisting sideways, but her attack caught one wing, and he crashed down, hitting the ground and rolling.

Spidey dropped Kitty, but before she could reach the floor and disappear, Amora caught her, ropes of green light wrapping around the girl. “You have had your fun,” Amora said, her fingers closing in mid-air, and Kitty gasped out a breath, her face twisting in pain as the magic twisted tight on her. “Now, give it back, before you hurt yourself.”

“Don't- Have it,” Kitty gasped out, her mouth drawing up in a tense smile.

“Lookin' for this?”

Amora turned. Gambit was perched in a low, easy crouch on the back of the sofa, his bo staff balanced over one shoulder and one arm draped over his knee. His fingers hung loose and empty between his legs, but as every eye in the room came around to him, he brought his free hand up and rolled his wrist. With a magician's pass of his hand, he held it up in front of him, the stone cradled in his palm.

Remy grinned. “Sorry, petite chat, picked you' pocket. Never could resist a shiny.” His arm curled back in, the stone pulsing with light between his long, graceful fingers. “An' this one's mighty shiny.”

Amora was seething, her face white, her lips pulled back from her teeth. “You have no idea the forces you're playing with, thief.”

His eyes slid towards her, glittering red and black beneath the shag of his hair. His lips curled up, his smile all but dripping with venom. “The same,” he said, his voice a low, sustained growl, “could be said o' you, petite. You come here an' muddle with things, ain't none of your business.” The stone sparked, pink light throbbing like a pulse between the skeletal reach of his fingers. Remy brought it up, his lips ghosting over the stone, his face thrown into shadows by the light it cast. “You gotta expect, that might end bad for you.”

The sound she made was a shriek, high and sharp and full of rage, and the torrent of energy that poured from her fingers was enough to blind everyone watching. Remy tucked and rolled, falling back behind the bar, finding cover, and bouncing out of range in a split second.

“Hot potato,” he called, his voice full of laughter, and Amora was enraged now, power going in all directions. Bottles shattered, raining alcohol and glass in all directions and on some level Tony was furious about that, some of that was irreplaceable, but then again, so were they.

He brought his hands up, bracing his wrist with his other hand, the simple repulsor crackling against his palm and it had one shot left, one more, one off, and he'd better make it matter. “Cap!” he yelled, and Steve was running hard across the room, shield up, a tempting, glowing target. She fired at it, her hands coming together like claws, rending the air with bursts of crackling energy.

Steve took the hits dead on, his feet sliding across the polished floor, skidding back and sideways even as he scrambled to keep moving forward, and while she was distracted, Tony shot.

The repulsor shot went over Amora's head and shattered the light fixture directly above her. Electricity exploded, shards of glass and metal raining down, and she flinched, her arms coming up to cover her head, an umbrella of energy protecting her head.

Gambit, faster than he had any right to be, rolled free of the bar and threw the stone across the room. Falcon snatched it from mid-air and was across the room and halfway through the window when her energy caught him broadside, sending him crashing to the floor. He flipped the stone up, and Amora disappeared, reappearing just below it, only to have the stone blink out of existence just before the stone could fall into her hands.

Strange spun it into existence between his palms. His eyes widened, and his face lit with a smile. “Oh,” he said. “A Norn stone.” He tossed it straight up, and Spidey's webbing picked it out of the air.

“Tell me you know what that means,” Tony gritted out, as Amora sent the wreckage around her flying.

“I know where it belongs, and how to get it back home,” Strange said, and Wanda was suddenly there at his elbow. “We can-”

Amora's fingers closed around the stone, ripping it free of Spider-Man's webbing, and just like that, Tony found himself frozen in place. Amora sucked in a breath, her flushed face calming in an instant. “More of a fight than you should have been able to put up,” she said, and with a flick of her free hand, she pulled them all from their feet, letting them hang in mid-air. The stone, cradled in her palm, glowed like a small pink sun, every flicker of her fingers seeming to draw the light from its depths. “You have been a annoyance, far more than I could have dreamed.”

Tony struggled for a second, the force tightening on him until he could barely breathe. Next to him, Steve's face was tense as he fought against her grip. Despite the tense expression on Amora's face, she held them without much difficulty. 

She held up the stone, cracks of energy forming between her fingertips. “Enough,” she said, her voice sharp and hard. “All of you. On your knees.”

“Actually,” a calm voice came from above her. “How 'bout just you?” 

Her head snapped up as the Clint dropped out of the ceiling vent, the metal grate crashing to the floor. He landed, loose and easy, and drew himself up, his bow drawn tight, the muscles of his arms pulled just as taut as the string. His teeth flashed in a macabre grin. “Put down your toy and let's end this.”

Amora turned, one hand coming up and out, and her fingers tightened into a fist. Her eyes narrowed. “On. Your. Knees.”

Clint stood there, one eyebrow arched, and Amora's smile drained away. Clint shrugged. “Sorry. Magic doesn't work so good on me. A little... Parting gift from a friend.”

Amora's eyes narrowed. “Frigga.” Her hand was vibrating in mid-air, her fingers flexing with the force of the power that she was channeling. In her other hand, the stone was crackling, power rolling through its heart like a barely contained storm. She smiled at Clint, but her eyes were tight, her jaw was a blade. “Even so, I could break your neck with one hand. You think I'm afraid of that?” she asked, waving a crackling hand in the direction of his bow.

“Maybe I can't hurt you, but...” His smile got tight, tight and narrow as his eyes. “Strange? What happens if I put an arrow into that little stone of hers?”

“Nothing good,” Stephen said. Behind Amora's back, he looked towards Wanda, who managed a tiny nod. Her arms were moving, actually moving now, and Tony caught Steve's eye. Steve was nodding as well. Whatever was holding them in place, it wasn't as strong now. 

She was overextending herself.

“Nothing good will happen to you, either,” Amora said. Her voice was shaking. “And your time's up. Let's see if Frigga's little protection spell can stop this.” Her free hand came up, a crackling ball of green fire rolling between her clawed fingers.

“Let's see if you can stop this,” Clint said, and he was retreating, backing up, fast now, a handful of steps. And Tony spotted the small fabric bag just as Clint stepped over it. Clint's foot caught the bag and his leg snapped up, sending it tumbling end over end through mid-air. Even as he did, he released the arrow. The bag met arrow, and the bag exploded in all directions.

Amora dodged the arrow, but the contents of the bag, a white powder as fine as dust, hit her square in the face, and she jerked back. The stone's energy spiked, sharp and hard and blindingly bright.

Which might've been why she missed the Roomba shooting straight for her head.

Mr. Fantastic slammed into her face, and she staggered backwards, and Steve was moving almost as soon as his feet hit the ground. He hit Amora from one side, Falcon came in from the other, both of them pushing her back. Spider-Man's webbing hit her square in the face, stifling her shriek of rage, and he swung past above them, dragging Amora along with him. Her arm came up, and Kitty ghosted through her, taking the stone with her. Strange snapped, “Gambit, LIGHT IT,” and Kitty threw it.

Gambit caught it out of mid-air, his power pulsing out of his fingers. It was glowing like a pink sun when he slid to his knees, setting it on the marble of the floor with the utmost delicacy, and Kitty grabbed him from behind, both of them phasing through the floor, disappearing in an instant.

“Tony, SHIELD,” Wanda yelled, and Tony went scrambling across the floor, grabbing the shield from Steve. He tossed the energy shield to Clint, who caught it one handed and slammed it down over the stone. Strange's hands came down on one side, Wanda's on the other, and then Clint was tumbling backwards and out of their way.

“Stamp it return to sender, will you please?” Tony called, his back up against the bar, his head back, his shoulders slumped, and just like that, it was all over.

The whole thing took a matter of seconds, and then the earth moved under their feet. The lights flickered, and went dark for a moment. In that instant, Tony could see the familiar, glowing skyline of New York outside the wide plate glass windows. The lights flared, and he looked around, automatically checking on everyone.

“The shield,” Wanda said, and she went down to her knees, collapsing to the ground. “And the shielded.”

“So, is it over?” Spidey asked into the leaden silence. “Please tell me it's over.”

Then Tony's phone rang. Tony pulled it out of his pocket, and stared at the readout. “Rhodey,” he explained, bringing it up. “How many times do I have to tell you, I am on a date here, Rhodes, can you not check up on me every five minutes or so?” He stood, his back flexing with it, not really listening to the wash of words that Rhodey poured over him. His eyes closed, relief a heady thing, and Rhodey's concern was a balm to his nerves. “Yeah, yeah, come on in, if you can see the building, guess we're back.” He looked towards the windows and waved. “Hey. New York, you know what, it's true, I really do love New York.”

Steve stared down at the blank spot on the floor where Amora had rested. He looked at Falcon, who met his eyes. “Guess she went with the stone.”

“She still had a connection,” Strange said, and he was breathing hard. Very hard. “We sent it back where it belongs, overloaded with energy and highly unstable. The one she stole it from? Will not be pleased.” 

“Can't say I'm upset by that,” Falcon said. He slumped back to the floor, his head tipped back as Redwing came fluttering in to land above him. “You okay?” he asked reaching up for the bird, who made a sharp little noise and rubbed his head against Falcon's fingers. “Good job.”

Kitty's head ghosted up through the floor to Steve's right, and with a flick of her eyes, she pushed herself all the way up to settle beside him. “We're home?” she asked. “We've already heard from the Professor.”

“Everyone okay?” Tony asked. He pinned the phone between his shoulder and his ear. “No, not you, Rhodes,” he said, still watching Steve move more than he was listening to Rhodey.

“Are you even listening to me?” Rhodey asked, sounding frustrated.

“No,” Tony told him.. Steve gave him a worried look. “Is everyone HERE okay, get your ass over here, Rhodes, and I'll worry about you.”

“Yeah, Logan's already checked in, too, him and Jubilee are fine,” she said. “Remy's downstairs. Probably stealing stuff, I'm not responsible for him.”

“Duly noted.” Steve said. He sounded amused, despite his exhaustion. “Wanda, where are the others?”

“Downstairs,” Kitty said, and Wanda nodded. “I found them. C'mon, Cap.” She held out a hand, and Steve looked at Tony.

“Check on them, I'll be right there,” Tony told him. His phone was beeping wildly now, calls from SHIELD and the Fantastic Four, from Xavier's and the authorities. Steve gave him a worried look, but he took Kitty's hand and let her tug him through the floor and out of sight.

“I'm here,” Rhodey said in Tony's ear.

“Well, come inside,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. 

“Is the damn pad on?”

“You know- Yes. I know the landing pad creeps you out, I'll tell the bots to leave you alone, your suit doesn't function like-” He pressed a hand tightly to his face. “I'm hanging up now, Rhodey.” 

“Stark-”

He hung up, and glanced at Clint, who was slumped on the couch. “Where's the Widow?”

“In the vents,” Clint said, his face exhausted. “I couldn't get her to wake up, so I stowed her somewhere safe. Hopefully, she'll be waking up, and that means she's going to kill me.”

“Probably,” Tony said, his lips twitching. “What did you do to my Roomba?”

“Eh, just disabled some of his safety sensors,” Clint said. He stumbled to his feet. “Your overpowered repulsors and overweighted case did the rest.”

“You're the one who wanted him bulletproof.” Tony looked over to where Wanda was crouched in front of the windows, her eyes focused on the skyline, her arms wrapped around her knees. She was holding up better than he'd thought she would.

She turned back to the room a bright smile lighting her face. 

There was a clap of air imploding, and Tony stood, expecting to see Rhodey striding in, but instead, a tiny, wizened woman stood straight with the aid of a cane, her silver hair precisely arranged, her dark eyes sharp. She held out her hand to Wanda, her lips curling up in a faint, but unmistakable smile. “Wanda. My dear girl, you were amazing.” Wanda stumbled to her feet and all but fell into the woman's arms, and the woman hugged her close. “You were absolutely amazing. I am so proud of you.”

“Pietro?” Wanda asked.

“Safe and sound, and on his way.”

Just behind her, a much younger woman with hair that was nearly the same shade of pale silver was standing, her arms crossed. “And just what have you been up to, Stephen?” she asked, her pretty face wreathed in a warm smile, her eyes luminous.

“When the cat's away, the mice will play,” Stephen said, smiling at her. He caught her hand and pulled it to his lips. “Do I sense your rather unique hand in this, my dearest Clea?”

“As if I would let you disappear that way,” she said. Her eyes were dancing. “You find new ways to cause trouble every day, Stephen.”

“So, hey,” Spider-Man said, from his perch on the ceiling, “could someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“We won,” Tony told him.

“That would explain why I'm completely unfamiliar with the situation.”

“Welcome to the winning side, kid,” Tony said, walking past, because Rhodey was hovering outside, flatly refusing to get within grabbing distance of the bots. “It's less satisfying than you might think, but better than the alternative.”

*

New York was still standing. They took a minute or two to appreciate that before they settled down to business.

Bruce, wan and shaky, had retreated to his room after a quick check, and Jarvis was keeping tabs on him. Wanda had half run, half flown into the arms of a silver haired boy with features much like hers, and they had both disappeared without another word. The silver haired woman had whispered a few words in Strange's ear before she disappeared, too. For the rest of them, they had retired to the kitchen for a debrief.

No one questioned the bowls of ice cream. Steve hadn't said a word about the fact that Tony's was full of rum raisin, and his glass was just full of rum. Tony seemed grateful for that.

“The damage here in the city was minimized," Rhodey said, his bowl balanced on the palm of his hand. "Mostly due to the fact that the attack came in the later hours of the evening. It's New York, so there was still movement out there, but a lot less than if it had happened at noon. Most people were at home, safely off the streets and well out of harms way." He dug his spoon into his rocky road, his face set. "Police and emergency workers are still sorting things out, and the National Guard's out on the streets now, just to be safe, but New York is getting used to this kind of crazy."

"Unfortunate, but true." Coulson's bowl of mocha chip was still half full, but he'd pushed it to the side, in favor of his laptop open and working in front of him on the table and a SHIELD communicator warbling away in his ear. "Check ins are coming regularly, minor injuries, a small amount of theft and looting and some panic, but for the most part, people woke up where they were when they fell asleep and might not have been aware of what was happening until they turned on the news or saw the troops in the street."

"The tower appears to be fine, and SI is unaffected," Pepper added, her bowl of raspberry frozen yogurt almost untouched.

"From the outside," Rhodey said, "It was like the city just went dark and silent in an instant. Buildings, people, disappearing. Nothing kept us from coming in, there was no barriers or blocks, but the city was a ghost town at first, and then, all we had was a big bunch of sleeping beauties."

"Everyone was the same?" Logan asked around a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

"With one exception." Agatha had declined ice cream, but had accepted tea, the delicate cup held steady at her lips as she sipped. Her black eyes, fathomless and unblinking, fixed on Clint. "Would you care to explain why you were unaffected, Agent Barton?"

Clint had dark circles under his eyes, and scrapes along the back of both his hands. He was on his second bowl now, a mix of flavors half drowned in chocolate syrup. He gave a half shrug, the spoon in his mouth. "Friends in high places," he said, before licking the silver clean. 

"My mother," Thor filled in. Jane was perched on his knee, a bowl of butter brickle balanced on his, and he wasn't letting her go long enough to eat his ice cream. She offered him a spoonful from time to time, and he took it. Darcy was next to them, peppermint swirl in her bowl and a bottle of whipped cream by her elbow. It had been used pretty liberally.

"Your mother," Clint agreed. He kept his head down when he shrugged. “After the Chitauri invasion, she saw me. And said that she'd protect me. I thought it was just a political thing.”

“It is anything but,” Thor said, his head bobbing in a slow nod. “Her magic is subtle, but very strong. If she offered you her protection, then you will carry that mark for the remainder of your life.”

Clint rubbed a hand against his breastbone. “Great,” he said, his voice tight. He took a breath, and beside him, Coulson shifted in his chair. Clint's shoulders relaxed, and Steve leaned forward, trying to distract him.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“Not really sure. I didn't ever- Fall asleep. I just felt something, like an earthquake, or a thunderclap, and I got dizzy. When I started shaking it off, I could tell with one look outside that we weren't in Kansas anymore. Spent a couple of minutes pointlessly trying to get anyone to wake up, and then when the elevator lights started moving, I cut my losses and grabbed the person nearest me.” 

“How lucky for me,” Natasha said, a faint smile on her lips. She was wearing an additional sweater, swaddled tight against the cold, even though the tower was comfortably heated. Her bowl had held cherry vanilla, and she had all but licked it clean. “I, meanwhile, woke up in the damn vents.”

“Told you she'd make me pay for that,” Clint said to Tony, who shrugged.

“Think you deserve it.”

“That's not in question.” Clint's finger rolled around his spoon. “Anyway, I couldn't get anyone else to wake up. Keep moving as much as he could until the comm unit I was wearing kicked back in.”

“I was hoping that you were hearing us, even if you weren't replying,” Tony said. “Jarvis couldn't get a lock on you or Natasha, the systems were still coming back online. We went with what we had.”

“Hell of a gamble,” Clint said.

“You can't stay out of a fight. We were pretty sure you'd show up,” Steve told him.

“You knew what that thing was, didn't you?” Falcon asked Strange. He stabbed his spoon in Strange's direction, maple walnut ice cream in his bowl. “You called it, what, a Norm stone?”

“Norn, actually,” Strange said, glancing at Agatha. Her lips were tight. “A Norn stone.”

Thor's head came up. “That does not bode well,” he said.

“You know what that is?” Spidey asked, around a mouthful of double chocolate fudge.

“Aye. They are known in Asgard. Known, and feared. As are those with rights to wield them, of which Amora is not one.” Thor's jaw was tight, his brows drawn up tight. “She was apprenticed, long since, with the Queen of the Norns. A sorceress of great power, and great will. But she exiled Amora for a lack of control, and a lack for trust. There is no way she would willingly gift Amora with one of her greatest treasures.”

“How 'bout her sister?” Remy asked. He had finished his praline pecan in a matter of minutes, and declined more, but the bowl was still resting beside his elbow.

“Lorelei?” Thor shook his head. “No. No student, no apprentice she. She resents all control or attempts to put her to the yoke of learning. It is only her sister who can stir her to effort, and even then, her acts are half-hearted at best. They have never posed much of a threat, even together.”

“They did this time,” Rhodey pointed out.

Thor frowned. “Aye. I am surprised, to speak the truth. For them to have worked such magic, such far ranging tricks, it is unlike them. And what I had believed of their abilities.”

“Why ice?”

Everyone stilled, heads turning in Steve's direction. Steve studied the peaks and canyons of his orange sherbert, his fingers clinging to his spoon a little too hard.

“Steve?” Tony asked.

Steve set the spoon aside. “Why ice?” he asked. “Why the traps at all? But even if the intent was was to trap us all, why ice?”

Strange leaned forward, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. “Perhaps it is something natural to her?” he asked, his dark eyes cutting towards Thor.

Thor was already shaking his head. “No. Many do, but she is not one who takes easily to the cold wastes, even for a matter of moments. She would not choose to spend any extended time there..” His brows drew up tight, his fingers rolling a thudding tattoo on the edge of the table. “Why these words, Captain?”

Steve took a deep breath. “I know we want to think we won,” he said, his eyes cutting up, finding Tony's. “It's tempting to think we won. But nothing that just happened made sense. Nothing matches up. What you said-” he said, nodding at Strange, “didn't match what Wanda told us.”

“Things were clearer outside of the trap than within,” Strange said, but his expression was twisting, his sharp mind taking this in.

“Maybe,” Steve said. “But traps, and power, and the layout wasn't right.” He looked at Falcon and Spidey. “We went to the penthouse. Didn't we?”

Falcon was nodding. “And then we ended up there again. Wait, you're right, we were there, so where were- We left, went back downstairs, but when we were up there, none of the Avengers were there, Amora wasn't there.” He looked up. “That doesn't make sense.”

“Why ice?” Steve repeated. “Why so many layers? Why so much effort, to so little effect? Why did the use so much energy, and then, fail to kill anyone? We haven't even had any reports of things, magical things going missing. They didn't do anything.”

“What are you really asking, Captain?” Agatha asked, her expression unreadable. Her hands were folded on the top of her cane, her gnarled fingers like claws. 

“If we just won,” Steve said at last, “then why does it feel more like we were rats in a maze? We might've gotten to the end, but I don't think we were ever in charge.”

Strange looked at Agatha. Agatha looked at Strange. Neither of them said a thing.

“You think someone was testing us,” Natasha said, her eyes narrowed.

“Sure as hell feels like it. Like that was a very long, very complicated assessment,” Steve said. He rubbed his forehead with stiff fingers. There was an ache there that he almost hadn't recognized. But now that he was paying attention to it, his head was throbbing. “Like someone wanted to know just what we were capable of, and they got more than they bargained for.”

“You know, I do so much like the idea of winnin',” Gambit said. He was shuffling cards at a dizzying rate, his fingers a blur amongst the white paper. Judging by the almost sleepy look in his eyes, it was a nervous tic, and he played it for full effect. “It was a nice feelin', don't know why you feel the need to spoil it.” He gave Steve a smile to soothe the sting from his words.

“Sorry,” Steve said. He reached for his spoon, digging into his ice cream more to occupy his own hands than for any real desire to eat it. 

“There are usually three,” Agatha said, her eyes dark slits. “For this level of magic. I would have expected three.”

“We only saw two.” Tony shoved a hand through his hair.

“You're saying there was someone else?” Kitty asked. She licked her spoon clean of pistachio ice cream.

“Perhaps,” Strange admitted. “We don't know. We won't know.” He let out a sigh. “But what you're saying makes sense. If they could catch us, that would've been an excellent outcome. But a temporary defeat could be borne, if they learned enough about us to hold us in check on a second attempt.”

“Can I have a drink?” Spidey asked Tony. “Cause right now? I feel like I need a drink. Bad.”

“No, you are twelve.” Tony stood. “Look, it is late, and I am tired, and most of you do not live here.” He paused, and sighed. “For now, whatever the hell this was, we stopped it. Can we please get some sleep and figure out how we've fucked ourselves over tomorrow?”

Strange arched an eyebrow at him. “Is this how you live your life?”

“From one crisis to the next, yes, it is, and you can stuff your sense of superiority,” Tony said, smiling at him. 

Strange held up a hand. “I have work of my own, now that the possibility of this much trickery has been brought up.”

Thor nodded. “I will speak to the All-Father,” he said, his voice quiet. “We will find the hole in our defenses, and we will plug it.”

Strange straightened up. “If you would, please, inquire if there could be an exchange of knowledge. When it comes to the magic of your people, we are woefully behind. I cannot protect my people unless I can manage to learn more.”

“Agreed,” Agatha said, her hands folded on the edge of the table. Her eyes were brilliant and sharp, her back ramrod straight. “If you cannot maintain your borders, we must know what we are to be dealing with.”

Thor nodded. “Agreed,” he said, bracing his hands on the table. “I will speak to my people. Gain you access to the archives and libraries.”

Agatha stood. “This is acceptable.” She reached for her cane. “I will research what I can. The information you have provided does not match what we have experienced first hand. Something is off here, some element we have not discovered. Some player still hidden in the shadows.”

“Some power still veiled,” Stephen agreed. “Clea and I will look into it as well.”

Kitty set her spoon aside. “Ma'am?” she said, leaning forward. “Is Wanda-”

Agatha held up a hand. “I'm sorry, child, but I doubt you will see her again. Certain factors conspire to keep you apart, though they are not mine to reveal.”

Kitty frowned. “But-”

“Leave it alone, kid,” Logan said, not looking up. He rubbed the knuckle of a finger against the tip of his nose. “Sometimes, things just ain't gonna work out the way you want.”

She glanced at him, then at Agatha, who was pulling a shawl around her thin shoulders. “If you could, please, ma'am,” Kitty said at last, “tell her that I was glad to meet her. And tell her she kicked ass. Or words to that affect.”

Agatha paused, her lips curling up. “I believe I can find something that will convey your intent, Miss Pryde.” She inclined her head. "I will pass on your message."

“With that at the forefront of my mind,” Strange said, standing, “I think it best that I go back to the Sanctum and determine that nothing is missing from my vaults. I would suggest that SHIELD do the same,” he added, looking at Coulson.

Phil nodded. “We're on it. If you could make some time later this week, we'd like to speak to you about a way to better secure what we do have on site.”

“I'll make the time.” With a polite nod, Strange turned to Agatha. “If you would be so kind?”

“I have my own charges to see to,” she said, but she allowed him to assist her from her chair. “But for now, I shall leave Wanda in the care of her brother and make certain that everything is as it should be. If the Sanctum is breached...” Her voice trailed away.

“Never happen,” Strange said, with a bright grin. With her hand securely in the crook of his elbow, he nodded to the others. “Let us know if you find out anything further.”

“Aye,” Thor said, setting Jane on her feet. With that, Strange and Agatha simply vanished, a thin curl of smoke and an empty tea cup the only proof that they had ever been there at all making Tony mutter something obscene under his breath. 

“I have got to stop letting goddamn magic users into my tower,” Tony said, his head tipped back. He looked tired, his face drawn and his eyes shadowed. There were hollows beside his mouth, exhaustion carved deep into his skin. But when he caught Steve's eyes, and read the concern there, he gave Steve a lopsided smile. “I blame you and your 'open door' policy.”

“I'll accept that,” Steve said. He stood and collected a half dozen empty bowls. “Thanks,” he said to Spidey, who'd risen to help him. Together, they gathered the dishes and carried them to the sink.

“For now, though,” Thor said. “Perhaps we should to bed.”

“I'm all for that,” Darcy said, scrubbing a hand across the back of her neck. 

Pepper stood. “I should get going, too,” she said, and Tony caught her arm.

“Stay the night,” he said, his head tipping back to meet her eyes. “Not like we don't have a thousand guest rooms around this place.”

“Tony-”

“So, since I like pretending that we won, and I'm fine with being delusional, really, I am, I'm going to check on the Baxter building,” Spidey said. “Johnny's just a mess, you know how it is.”

Kitty threw herself into his arms, and he caught her, hugging her tight. They were so young, so fragile and small that it made Steve's chest ache. He knew that Tony was right, that they'd needed all the help they could get, but it still felt wrong. It felt like they should be doing everything possible to keep these children out of the line of fire.

Kitty brushed a kiss against his masked cheek. “Stay safe, Webhead. C'mon out and see us, okay?”

“Aw, you like me!” he laughed.

“I like your rear in that costume. The rest of you is also acceptable,” she said, with an impish smile.

“I am blushing. You can't tell, but I assure you. So flustered.” Spidey waved a hand in front of his face, fanning himself. “Really.”

“Let's go, kid, I'll give you an escort,” Falcon said. He snapped a salute in Steve's direction, a warm smile on his face. “See you around the neighborhood, Cap.”

Steve nodded. “I think it's in good hands, but yeah. I think you will.” Steve reached out and smoothed a finger over Redwing's head. The bird shook his wings and rubbed up against Steve's hand. “Will you keep an eye out for me?” he asked the bird. One bright eye fixed on his face, and Redwing nipped lightly at his fingertips. Steve laughed. “Understood.”

“He likes you. Or you'd be missing a joint or two,” Falcon told him with a grin. He extended a hand, and Steve took it. The handshake was firm and strong. “See you, Cap!”

Steve caught a glimpse of Tony, leaning against the counter, talking to Pepper. Judging by the look on her face, the discussion wasn't going well, but Tony was wearing her down. She rapped him lightly in the middle of his chest with one little fist, making Tony laugh. She smiled, just a little, and Steve knew that Tony was going to get his way.

“We're cuttin' out of here, too,” Logan said, pulling Steve's attention back around. His arms were crossed, an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth. His head rolled forward, just a bare inch, and he added, “Thanks for keeping an eye on the kid.”

“Oh, God,” Kitty said, stalking past. “You are worse than my father.”

“Course I am,” Logan told her with a snort. “I know what you're capable of.”

“We couldn't have gotten it done without you,” Steve said, directly to Kitty, and the grin she gave him was luminous. He offered her a hand. “Thank you, Miss Pryde.”

She took it. “Thank you, Captain Rogers.” Her eyes brightened. “Does this mean I can come to poker night?”

“No,” Remy said from behind Steve. He leaned an arm on Steve's shoulder, all languid grace. “Don't let her flim flam you, monsieur. She is not to be trusted.”

“Who're you going to trust?” Kitty asked, her eyes huge and full of hurt. “Me, a sweet, innocent young lady, or this cad?”

“Cad is a good word for it.” Steve gave Remy a look, and Remy grinned straight into his face, unashamed. “You shouldn't fight it,” he told the thief. “Your best chance of getting back in is to let her pull you through the walls.”

“I'll always be findin' my own way in, merci.” With a swagger, Remy headed for the elevator. “We best be getin' on home, oui? Who knows what trickery you' young charges are getting up to without Logan bein' there to keep a careful eye on them.”

“You're a teacher, too, you know,” Logan groused.

“In name only, an' all the baby birds know it.”

“Hold the elevator,” Clint said, hustling after them, with Natasha right on his heels. They were both shrugging equipment into place. “We're gonna do a sweep of the building, okay, Cap?”

Steve shook his head. “You shouldn't-”

Natasha patted him on the shoulder. “Neither of us will be able to relax until we do,” she said, her voice soft. “Coulson'll keep an eye on us and get us some SHIELD teams, but-” She gave him a tight smile. “You've got other problems. Let us do this.”

“What other problems?” Steve asked her.

She headed off, her hips swinging as she strode to the elevator. “I think you've misplaced your date,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder, a sly smile on her lips.

Steve turned on his heel, his gaze sweeping over the kitchen. Tony was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more left, and almost done. Thanks for your patience, everyone, and please bear with me just a little while longer.
> 
> Mea culpa!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some mild sexytimes and discussion of said sexytimes. 8)

“Of course you're still here,” Tony said to the benign looking little box that was sitting above his workbench. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed by that. But he tucked his hands in his pockets to keep himself from touching. It was safer that way.

“You okay?” Rhodey said from behind Tony, bringing his attention around.

Tony glanced in his direction. “Yeah.” He gave a shrug. “This suit's seen better days, but it served its purpose. I'm burning these shoes, though.”

Rhodey shook his head. “I asked you for one thing. One thing, Stark. One. Don't disappear. Wasn't that the only request I made of you?”

“You're whining, Rhodes. It's, it's conduct unbecoming, when you whine, when you get that tone in your voice, I don't appreciate that tone.” Tony grinned back at him. “Thanks.”

Rhodey wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him in for a one armed hug. “You are a pain in the ass,” he grumbled, and Tony laughed.

“Yeah, go to hell. Seriously.” Tony hugged him back, head on Rhodey's shoulder for a moment. “Don't you have laundry to do or something?”

“Take a day off from being snatched by the forces of evil and maybe I can get a load in the drier for once.” Rhodey took a seat at the workbench. “This is your fault-”

“My fault? My fault?” Tony pressed a hand to his chest, trying for insult, but he was too damn tired to make a real effort. “That was uncalled for.”

Rhodey gave him a look.

“Okay, maybe not uncalled for, but at least a little-” Tony rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He slumped into a stool next to Rhodey. “Sorry.”

“You're always sorry,” Rhodey pointed out, but he was smiling, just a little.

“Honest regret should count for something,” Tony said.

“Uh-huh.” Rhodey's dark eyes slid in his direction. “Steve, huh?”

“Steve,” Tony agreed. He shrugged. “He kissed me first. In my defense, it was a really excellent kiss, hard to tell the man no.”

“Do you want to?”

Tony opened his mouth. Closed it. “No,” he admitted at last. “Really don't.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “This gonna be a problem?”

“Nah,” Rhodey said. He leaned his chin on one hand. “You don't do anything the easy way, do you.”

It wasn't a question, but Tony answered it anyway. “Just never got into the habit.”

Rhodey let out a snort. “You are a pain in the ass, Stark.”

“Takes one to know one, Rhodes.”

“Me? Are you calling me a pain in the ass?” Rhodey pushed away from the workbench. “Oh. Oh, I can't wait to hear this. I cannot wait to hear this.” He crossed his arms. “How. How am I a pain in the ass for you?”

Tony stabbed a finger in his direction. “Because of you, I ended up in bright red bikini briefs.”

“Am I interrupting... Something?” Steve asked from the doorway. 

“No,” Rhodey said.

“I don't know, is he?” Tony asked.

“No,” Rhodey repeated.

Steve's feet shifted, his face unreadable. “I can go-”

“This is why you can't get a second date,” Rhodey said to Tony. To Steve, he said, “His bots malfunctioned.”

“They didn't malfunction, you were wearing armor, they remove armor, you got too close-”

“That does not explain why they took my pants!” 

Steve made a sound suspiciously like a laugh, and when Tony glanced at him, he had one hand clamped over his mouth. “Sorry” he said, the word muffled by his fingers. His eyes twinkling, he managed to pull himself together. “Do I need to worry about-”

“I fixed it,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “They were expecting a damn undersuit, it is not their fault that you don't wear one and you're still afraid of the landing pad.”

“I am not afraid, I'd just like to not be stripped of my dignity and my pants in front of the entire city of New York,” Rhodey said.

“Too late for the dignity, you're friends with me.” Tony turned back to Steve. “What's up, Cap, did you clear out our unwanted guests?”

“Everyone's gone,” Steve said, tucking his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his suit jacket again, and a tie, but not the tie he'd been wearing earlier. Tony wondered what had happened to the other one. “Thought I'd-” One shoulder rose and fell in a brief shrug. “Walk you back to your rooms.”

Tony felt his lips twitch. “Don't think that's necessary, Cap. I know where my bedroom is.”

Rhodey let out a snort. “Do you? I'd say you need an escort if for no other reason than so you don't stay down here all night avoiding sleep. Again.”

“Hey, I think-”

“He's right,” Steve said. His voice was gentle, but firm. 

Tony considered his chances. Then he recalculated based on dealing with both of them. “The two of you,” he said, flicking a finger between them, “are not allowed to gang up on me. That's not, that is not going to happen here. You need to understand that.”

Rhodey stood up. “Good night, Tony.”

“Hey, that's not-”

Rhodey offered Steve a hand. “Nice to see you again, Cap.”

“Are you two listening-”

“It is, thanks for the backup,” Steve said, shaking Rhodey's hand, and Tony gave up.

“Stay out of trouble,” Rhodey said to Tony.

“Go put your laundry in the drier and remember to check your delicates,” Tony told him.

Laughing, Rhodey slipped out the door, leaving them together. Steve gave Tony a small smile. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Tony said. He pushed himself up. “I take it the date's over.”

“It's probably time to call it quits, yes.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “So. That might be the worst first date ever.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Second one has to be better than that, right?” he asked, and there was a hopeful note in his voice that reassured Tony more than he wanted to admit.

“Well, it would've been, but now you've cursed us,” Tony said, making Steve grin. “Let's go, you can help me find my bed.” He enjoyed the faint flush that climbed Steve's neck, but then again, he was a petty person. And Steve was amazingly hot when he blushed. 

They walked the halls in silence, the quiet not weighing on Tony's nerves the way that he would've thought it would. It felt natural, it felt right to just be leaning against the wall of the elevator, his shoulder almost touching Steve's. 

To tired to even care about the potential trouble or damage, he just focused on getting back to his apartment. It appeared untouched, and he hovered at the door, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jarvis, nothing's gonna blow up in here, right? We've done a scan?”

“For what, sir?”

“For, I don't know, for magic.”

“I lack an adequate method to determine the presence of magic,” Jarvis admitted. “However, there is no sign of entry, and there is no damage to the room. No threats as I am capable of determining.”

“It'll have to do.” Tony headed across the room, not bothering with lights until he was in front of his bedroom door. He turned back to Steve, wondering if it was acceptable to offer a quick blowjob after a first date. Proably not. He should've looked that up before he'd left tonight, it wasn't like he could ask Jarvis about it now.

Miss Manners probably hadn't covered that in a published column, anyway.

Instead, he moved in, just a step, his fingers finding the familiar line of Steve's jaw. Tony tipped his chin up and brushed a kiss against Steve's lips. “Good-night,” he said, his hand falling away as he took a step back. It took far more effort than it should've to take that step back.

If he wasn't so exhausted, he might've started crying.

Steve stood there, his hands at his sides, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted. Tony swallowed hard, trying to remind himself that he was being good, that he could be good, it was a possibility that was open to him. He could behave like a decent human being and give Steve a chance to adjust to a relationship, and that would be much easier if Steve wasn't yanking his tie off, and pushing his jacket off of his shoulders.

Tony blinked. Steve was- He opened his mouth. Closed it.

Steve's head was down now, his fingers jerking each button out of its hole with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. His hands were tense, his grip too much for the delicate fabric, and a button went flying, pinging on the floor in the sudden silence.

“Uh-” Tony said, because he was brilliant like that.

“Yeah,” Steve said, his head coming up, and his brows were drawn up tight, and his mouth was a thin line and Tony wasn't quite sure how to read his expression, but it was not the sort of expression that he generally associated with 'getting naked for sexy times.'

“What are you-” Tony's knew his mouth was hanging open, but in his defense, this was the angriest strip-tease he'd ever seen in his life. Judging by the look on his face, if Steve could set his clothes on fire with his mind, they'd be cheerfully burning right now. Tony held up a hand. “Okay, hey, wait, this-”

“It shouldn't be this HARD,” Steve said, his voice low and tight. A shoe went clattering across the floor and Tony watched it go with a sort of morbid curiosity.

“No, no, that's, that's not quite right and I don't understand what's happening here, are we mad at the shoes? Have the shoes done something-” He stepped to the side to avoid another bouncing dress shoe, a bubble of laughter building up in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was humor or hysteria, and he wasn't sure if it really mattered. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, and he knew that was a horrible thing. Steve's head came up, and his face got tight, pinched. Tony tried to wipe the smile off of his face. “Steve, look, this really isn't necessary, really, we're both tired, it's been a long couple of weeks, just... Go get some sleep, okay?”

“You don't take me seriously,” Steve gritted out, and there was a note to his voice that Tony didn't understand, but it wasn't a good tone. 

Tony crossed his arms, all humor dying in an instant. “You know, I am trying very hard to not be insulted by this, I am, because I know I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships,” he said, his voice as controlled as he could make it, “but you know what? Every single person that has ended up in my bed has wanted to be there.”

“And you think I don't?” Steve asked, his face flushed. He took a step forward, well into Tony's personal space, almost but not quite touching. Tony could feel the heat that was thrown off by all that lovely bare skin and he locked his fingers on the fabric of his own jacket to keep him from reaching out and touching. Groping, really. The word he was looking for here was 'groping.'

“Right now?” Tony arched his eyebrows at Steve. “You look like a man on his way to a court martial that you have to be naked for, because of military regulations, or something, I don't know, I'm not good at reading you sometimes, Rogers, but this is not-”

Steve's mouth was open, his breathing audible, his face flushed. “Do you want me?” he asked. “Do you want this?”

“What?” Tony didn't know if there was a socially acceptable way to answer that question without weeping, so he went with, “What?”

Steve didn't touch him, didn't crowd him, but he didn't back off, either. “Do you,” he repeated, his voice wavering a bit, “want me? Want this? Because if you don't-”

“You want to know if I WANT you?”

“It's kind of important for me to know that,” Steve pointed out.

“If you had any idea,” Tony breathed, because there was not enough blood left in his brain for him to manage higher reasoning skills, “of the dirty, filthy, depraved things I've thought of doing to you?” He stared at Steve, too tired and too far beyond caring to attempt subterfuge or charm. “You would not ask that question.”

Steve recoiled, his face red, and Tony took advantage of the space, struggling to breathe, struggling to remember that he was in fact an experienced man and not a fumbling fifteen year old boy desperate to lose his virginity with the school quarterback. That he'd done this, whatever this was, whatever it was going to be, Tony had done this before. A lot.

He was not going to screw this up. He was in control, he was controlled, and he could keep it that way. “So this is-”

“Yes,” Steve breathed.

“Yes, yes, what?” Tony asked, sidetracked again, because Steve was GOOD at that, Steve was a fucking master at turning him around and twisting him up and leaving him completely confused and rattled, and that really wasn't fair.

“Yes, to everything,” Steve said, moving forward.

Tony scrambled backwards, his feet moving of their own accord. “Yes?”

“Yes to filthy, yes to depraved, yes to everything,” Steve said, leaning in. 

“Yes?” Tony repeated, and Steve's mouth was RIGHT THERE. It was right there, and it was cherry red and he needed to taste that mouth like he needed to breathe.

“Yes, please?” Steve said, and that was more than Tony could take, that was more than he should ever be expected to have to take, and he went for Steve's mouth, and everything was attached to it.

The kiss was explosive, and sweet and he was pretty sure that Steve had picked him up, or maybe he'd crawled up Steve's chest, he didn't give a damn either way, because the kiss went on forever, and it was over far too fast. When he broke away, it was only to breathe, and breathing was secondary to getting his damn clothes off. “Okay,” he managed, and they were in the bedroom, excellent, that was excellent work on Steve's part, good job, there was a bed, thank God, there was a bed. They weren't on it, but it was right there, that was good, he could use that.

“Okay, first of all,” he said, and Steve was really good at getting belts undone, that was knowledge that Tony needed, he needed to know that. “First of all,” he repeated because three words were apparently all his blood-starved brain could manage, “no. No, blanket consent is not ever acceptable. No. Don't do that, don't ever do that.”

“Okay.” Steve tossed his belt somewhere, and Tony was fine with that, he was absolutely fine with that, he was so proud of Steve's clever fingers.

“You have to be clear about your boundaries and your comfort level and-”

“Gotcha,” Steve said, and his hands were under Tony's shirt, pushing it up and out of the way. Tony grabbed it and yanked, and he probably lost a button or two and he didn't give a damn, because he tossed the dress shirt and Steve peeled his undershirt over his head. “Boundaries. I'm good with those.” His fingers slid over Tony's stomach, and Tony swayed on his feet.

“It's important that you-” He was pretty sure that he was still talking, and he sure as hell wasn't listening, because Steve was going down on his knees, his mouth brushing against the side of Tony's ribs, against his skin, down to the arc of Tony's hipbone, and Tony was completely at sea.

“Tony,” Steve said, and the word was hot against Tony's stomach, hot and sweet and damp. “Can we discuss boundaries later?” 

“No, we can't, that's not good, that's-” His fingers sank into Steve's hair. “Don't do that.” Steve pulled away immediately and Tony had to struggle to keep the pleading, whining noise behind his teeth. “No, no, you keep right on doing that with your mouth, have fun, enjoy, whatever you like. I mean, don't get into a sexual situation without making sure you've made your expectations clear, that's the-” Tony couldn't hold back the whimper this time, because Steve's tongue was flicking against his hip, against the skin of his stomach. “Safe! Safe sex, that's what-”

“I'm really not planning on doing this with anyone else,” Steve said, and Tony's brain knew that was important, but he was so focused on the feeling of Steve's breath on his navel that he wasn't sure why. “And it has been absolute hell getting you into bed, so I think we'll be fine.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asked.

Steve ignored him. “How about you just tell me what you like?” 

“Pretty much everything,” Tony said, and that was probably not something he should admit, but not like Steve could've missed his sordid past. “I'm a little more concerned about what you're comfortable with doing here, I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want, or aren't into.”

“I'll let you know,” Steve said, his hands firm on Tony's hips, his ass and his waist and stroking over the skin of Tony's ribcage. 

“Steve-”

“I'm really not concerned, Tony. You do realize that I can toss you through a wall if I had to?”

“Can we start with you just telling me no before we go to bodily harm?” Tony asked, a bubble of laughter rising in his throat. “I'm pretty good with a no, I can work with a no.”

Steve's eyes slid up, and that face, those blue eyes, that mouth, this was a wet dream Tony'd had more than once, this one was on regular repeat and as it turned out the reality was so very much better than anything his depraved brain could manage to come up with. Steve was smiling, sweet and hot and wicked, as he flicked the button of Tony's pants open with a twist of his wrist.

“Fuck me,” Tony managed, his brain in complete shutdown now.

“Working on it,” Steve said, his hands making quick work of Tony's pants.

“Thank GOD,” Tony said, and he meant it, that was as close as he'd gotten to actual prayer since his last near death experience, and this just might count. His fingers slid into Steve's hair, probably holding on a little too tight and he couldn't seem to stop himself. “I was terrified that you were a virgin.”

Steve stilled, his hands, big, wonderful hands, half in Tony's shorts, his fingers curved around Tony's ass. “Okay,” he said, and Tony's head cleared in an instant.

“Tell me this isn't your first time,” Tony said.

“It's not my first time,” Steve said immediately.

Tony blinked. “Are you lying?”

“You just said you wanted me to tell you that, so that's what-”

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Tony scrambled backwards, the back of his legs hitting the the bed. “Don't lie, that's not- Don't. I don't give a damn, I just, I don't want to fuck this up, and that's a lot of pressure, and you seem to know what you're doing, you seem like-”

Steve rolled to his feet, and damn, that was hot, just watching him move was hot. “I researched it,” he said. 

Tony stared at him. “What? You researched, what?” His eyes went wide. “Sex? You- Researched sex. Yes, of course you would, you would do that, analytical reasoning and all that shit, wait, how?”

His face was red, but he was soldiering on, determination clear on his face. “There's this great invention called the internet,” he gritted out, and it took a second for Tony to recognize the full intent of that phrase.

“You went looking for internet porn,” Tony said, his voice vacant.

“Not porn,” Steve said, stressing the word. “I mean, I knew- I do know- There's actual information on the internet and not just porn, Tony, there's-”

“You were looking at internet porn,” Tony said, wrecked by that concept. “And you didn't invite me.”

Steve's eyes went up, embarrassment and exasperation warring on his features. “I didn't-” Tony cut him off, the kiss swallowing his words, his breath, and their bodies slammed together with a bit more force than he'd intended, and he didn't care, and Steve had him lifted half of the floor in an instant, hands greedy and needy and holding on just on the right side of too tight. When they broke apart, Steve was panting and Tony was trying very hard not to whine. “Okay,” he said, his face flushed and his pupils dilated. “Maybe. Maybe, there was porn.”

Tony burst into laughter, burying his face in Steve's shoulder. “Why?” he said, almost wailing with it. “Oh, God, Steve, there's so much better ways to learn-”

“I went with what I had,” Steve said with that commanding, firm voice, his field voice and Tony wondered if this was going to make his little 'getting a hard-on in the middle of a battle' problem better or worse. Probably worse. Steve leaned in, just a little, and his gaze is direct. “I am not a child. I know what sex is. I know what I want. I don't have the practical experience, but I'm very-” He leaned in a bit more, and his mouth was right there, and his tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. “Very good at planning.”

“I know,” Tony said, stepping forward until they were flush up against each other, and yes, that was definitely a lovely erection there.

“When I want something, I'm going to fight for it,” Steve said. “And that includes you.” One kiss, one more kiss, and Tony broke, pulling away, only far enough to start tossing the remainder of his clothing.

“I'm really trying to understand here,” Tony said, and he was shucking shoes and socks and anything else that was in his way of being naked and being naked with Steve. “I mean, I thought, well, I thought maybe you'd changed your mind, you know, it's-”

“No,” Steve said, and the expression on his face was one of raw hunger. “No.” His lips were parted, his face flushed, his eyes almost black. “Why did you think-”

“Because you didn't make a move! It's been a month!” Tony paused, his breath coming in raw pants, need and want and frustration throbbing through him. “I got out of SHIELD medical, and you barely kissed me. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“You were still healing,” Steve started and Tony snorted.

“If you're going to get all shy and delicate every time I'm bruised up, Cap, we are never getting this done, so you gotta let that one go.”

“We hadn't gone, I mean, I wanted-” Steve stopped. Swallowed. “I wanted to go out first,” he said, and there was a strange note to his voice. Cautious and careful, like he wasn't sure of where he stood. His eyes flicked up, catching Tony's. “I wanted you. I've always wanted you. But I-” Those beautiful shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “You're important. You're important to me. Because you're you, because you're my friend, not just because I want you.” One hand came up, jamming hard through his hair, and he gritted out a curse. “I'm not explaining this right.”

Tony stared at him. “Steve,” he said at last, “were you trying to be respectful?” His lips curled up, a strange sort of warmth that had nothing to do with sex settling low in his belly. “Were you trying to treat me right before you made a move? Buy me dinner, take me out on the town?”

Steve's shoulders went back, his chin came up. “Yes.”

“So, what, I wouldn't think that you were just in this for the sex?” Tony asked, moving forward.

“I'm not.” His throat worked again as he swallowed and that should not be sexy, Tony should not be thinking of Steve's mouth and hands and the incredible amount of exposed skin on display here, this was serious. Steve met his eyes, and he looked so serious it hurt. “I-” He smiled, just a little. “You're important to me,” he said. “And if I have to choose between being your friend, or having sex with you, I'd choose being your friend.” His face flushed, he added, “I'd really like both, though, really, that is, please?”

Tony sucked in a breath. “Get on the bed, Rogers, I'm going to rock your world.”

“Tony...” A smile bloomed on his face, tension smoothed away, warmth seeping back into his skin, laughter sparking in his voice. “Really, Tony?”

“I'm serious. You. Naked. Bed. Let's go, I take this as a challenge, and I don't back down from a challenge.” Tony put a single finger in the middle of Steve's breastbone and pushed. Steve, laughing, went down, hitting the bed and bouncing.

“Do you have any idea how egotistical you sound right now?” he said, grinning up at Tony, who grabbed hold of his pant legs and tugged. Steve arched his back, letting them slide off easily enough, and Tony pitched them over his shoulder. 

“And yet, you're in my bed, and you're naked, so, guess egotistical works for you,” Tony said, smirking down at him. “Good to know. Because I'm bad at pretending. Good that you've got that kink, because it's a trait that I'm not going to be able to turn-” 

Steve hooked a hand around Tony's back, his palm settling just above the swell of his ass, and gave Tony a tug. Tony went down easily enough, tumbling into his arms. “Hi,” he said, leaning over.

Steve breathed out a soft, “Hi yourself,” before he pulled Tony into a kiss. 

*

Steve really wished he hadn't woken up.

If he hadn't woken up, he could've stayed like this, warm and comfortable and wrapped a little too close against Tony. With the angle of Tony's back against his breastbone, his arm slung over Tony's waist, his fingers snugged up against the curve of Tony's ribs. With the steady, rhythmic flex of Tony's breathing in sleep like a subtle lullaby. If he'd stayed asleep, he might've stayed here until morning, his face buried in Tony's disordered hair, his legs tangled with Tony's, the hard press of Tony's ankle bone against his.

He wished he was still asleep, that this was a faint, hazy dream; he'd had this dream before, so many times. The sex ones had been embarrassing, had left him wound up and aching, his whole body WANTING, and any relief he'd brought himself had been fleeting at best. Those, he'd been embarrassed about, had been frustrated by. But the dreams like this, where there was nothing but warmth and familiarity, where Tony slept against his chest, or his side, or curled against his back, those dreams were shattering.

The reality was better. And so much worse.

Steve held still, hoping against hope that he could fall asleep again. That he could sink back down and forget the coming dawn until it actually arrived. It seemed unfair. After all of this, after all he'd gotten through, the stress, the strain, the fear, the loss, wasn't he owed one night? One damn night to sleep with someone who, well, loved him?

Or if Tony didn't love him, Steve could pretend, when the two of them were asleep, curled together. Sharing heat and space and blankets and tangled sheets.

He kept his eyes closed, kept his body still, trying not to think, trying to just remember, the smallest detail, the rough pressure of Tony's fingers and the heat of his mouth, the way his breath caught and went raw when he was pushed to his limits, the way his eyes went black and his face flushed, the way his hair felt and his skin smelled, Steve wanted to remember everything. Wanted to drown in the memories, in case he did end up back in his own bed, so close and yet so far away.

Steve resisted the urge to wrap himself around Tony and cling, because that, he suspected, was the quickest way to find himself politely shown the door.

“I can HEAR you overthinking, back there.”

Tony's voice, gravelly and raw, husky and hot, made him twitch. Steve swallowed, hard. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, and Tony shifted in his arms, skin sliding on skin. “Did I wake you?”

Tony made a non-committal noise. “It's still early. Even for you. Go back to sleep.”

Steve weighed that. Gritted his teeth. “I don't know the etiquette here.”

“Etiquette? Easy. Lots of orgasms for everyone, black tie optional.” Tony half rolled away from him, twisting around to look over his shoulder at Steve, his eyes foggy and heavy-lidded. It was still dark in the room, but light was creeping in; more than enough light for Steve to see him “What else do you need to know, really?”

“Am I supposed to-” Steve wished they weren't doing eye contact right now. Rejection would probably have been easier if he'd done it without Tony's swollen mouth in his line of sight. “Do I go?”

Tony blinked, and his eyes went narrow. Tight. “Oh. You mean, uh-” He shifted again, the sheets shifting with him, and when he sat up, the blankets slid down his narrow torso, pooling in his lap. Steve struggled against the impulse to reach out and trail his fingers over that delicate skin, usually hidden from sight, right under his belly button. Tony cleared his throat, bringing Steve's attention back around. “You mean, go. Back to your own room?”

Steve's fingers twisted into fists beneath the cover of the sheets, the pillow beneath his head. “I mean, I can. I don't know how these things are supposed to go, I don't-” He broke off, frustrated with himself. Angry that everything had to be awkward and fumbling. That he was this old and still so unsophisticated, so unsure of what he should be doing. 

In retrospect, the sex had been the easy part of things. 

Tony's fingers rolled a sharp tattoo on the front of the arc reactor, his face unreadable. “Do you want to?” he said, all at once. Reading the confusion on Steve's face, he shook his head. “Do you, you know, want to go back to your room? Because you can. If you're more comfortable there. If that's what you want, that's- That's fine,” he said, but there was an aching note in that final word, a break like the needle of a record skipping.

Steve sucked in a long breath. “I just, I know, I should go,” he said, giving up, because the sense of humiliation, the constant way he was REMINDING Tony that he was a fumbling, awkward virgin, was unbearable. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I'll just- This is how it goes, right?”

Tony leaned over him, face still blank. “Fuck how it goes,” he said, his voice harsh. “What do you want, Steve? Not what do you feel obligated to do, not what do you think everyone else wants you to do, or thinks you should do, what do you want?”

Steve stared up at him, searching his face for something, anything, any port in this storm, and gave up. “I want to stay here,” he said, his voice a thin thread, a plea, a benediction.

And just like that, Tony's face relaxed. “Good,” he said, his voice clipped. “I want you to stay here. Since we're in agreement, go back to sleep.” He rolled back into the pillows, all tawny golden skin against white sheets, and Steve couldn't quite stop himself from reaching out to touch. His fingers slid against Tony's ribs, and Tony batted at his hand. “Stop it,” he grumbled, pinning Steve's hand to his side. “Don't tease, I'm too damn tired right now.” 

“Sorry,” Steve said, but before he could pull his hand back, Tony wove their fingers together and pulled him around. Steve went willingly enough until they were face to face, and Tony peered at him with narrowed eyes in the pale morning light.

“Did you really think I was going to kick you out of bed?” he asked, his voice rough. Steve tried a shrug, and reached for a pillow. He avoided Tony's gaze, but still heard it when Tony sighed. “If I didn't want to-” He broke off. “We would've gone to your room. So I could leave. If I didn't want-” His teeth came together with a click. “Go to sleep.”

Steve pushed himself up, just a little, to jam a pillow under his shoulder. “I'm not particularly sophisticated,” he said, his words low. “I don't want to put you in an awkward position, that's all.”

Tony buried his face in his pillow and said something that Steve couldn't make out. Tony's head came up, and Steve blinked at him. “Steve, darling, the phrase 'awkward position' can only be used in this bed if you want to try something particularly acrobatic. Otherwise, you're just fine.”

It took Steve an instant to get the joke, and he felt his face heat. “I'll, uh, I'll keep that in mind.”

“I appreciate that.” Tony dragged the blankets over both of them, and when he settled back down, he was right up against Steve.

“Tony?”

“Mmm?”

Steve stroked a hand up the length of his back, learning the flex of his muscles and the contours of his body by touch. “Will you still be here in the morning?”

Tony opened one eye, glaring up at him. “You are absolutely lousy at pillow talk, can I just say that?”

“I know.” Steve brushed a kiss against his temple. “Will you?”

Tony turned his head up into the kiss, and buried his face in Steve's chest. “Yes. Okay?”

“Okay.” Steve risked turning his head, burying his face in Tony's tangled hair. He breathed in, slow and soft and deep, reveling in the scent. “Tony?”

Tony raised his head and gave him a look. “Sleeping here, Rogers.”

Steve's lips twitched, and he leaned in, risking a kiss. Despite Tony's glare, he returned it with interest, his mouth soft and welcoming against Steve's. When he broke away, Steve whispered against his lips, “If I wake up and Pepper is standing over this bed holding my clothes in a dry cleaning bag, we are going to have words, Stark.”

Tony stared at him. Bursting into laughter, he buried his face back against Steve's shoulder. “You are something else,” he managed, between snickers. “Absolutely something else, you know that?”

“I will go down to the workshop and we will have words,” Steve said, trying to sound stern, but it was harder than it should've been, because the feel of Tony's laughter on his skin was incredible. He let his hand slide up Tony's back, stroking the familiar lines of muscle and bone.

Tony was still chuckling, little bursts of air and noise against Steve's shoulder. “How the hell do you even know about that?” he managed.

“It was number six on the list of things Pepper said she was never doing again, not ever again,” Steve said, shifting his weight and tangling his legs with Tony's.

“Oh, yeah, right, that was a lot of yelling.” Tony yawned, twisting on the pillows, and the scrape of his stubble on Steve's skin made him shiver. “I think she was overreacting.”

“Tony, you were trying to duck a congressional subpoena,” Steve said, grinning. “She is a very forgiving woman.”

“Weirdest pillow talk ever,” Tony said, yawning again, and Steve couldn't resist a kiss on those sleepy lips. He felt Tony's fingers slide through his hair, and wanted to just stay like this forever. 

“Bad?” he whispered when they finally pulled apart, the word breathed against Tony's jaw.

“Pretty sure you couldn't be bad at this if you tried.” Tony pulled back. “I'll be here in the morning. Now, go to sleep.” Steve grinned, and risked shifting closer. Tony grumbled under his breath, but one arm slipped around Steve's waist, his hand resting warm and steady against the small of his back. “I can almost hear you being smug right now.”

“I think I have cause to be smug,” Steve said, letting his eyes close. “I'm sleeping with Tony Stark.”

“Yeah, play your cards right and you can sex him up again in the morning,” Tony said, his voice slurred on the edges.

Steve flushed, feeling heat wash over his face, his neck, his whole body, and he shifted, telling his over eager body it could wait. And his really overeager heart not to get too attached. “Looking forward to it. And maybe tempting him into staying in bed all day,” he whispered.

Tony groaned. “I would like to remind you that we saved the damn city tonight, and I'm too exhausted to even think about this.” He paused. “For at least a few hours.”

“I'll set the alarm.”

“This conversation isn't going at all like I thought it would.”

“Go to sleep, Tony.” Grinning, Steve curled against Tony, and let himself fall back asleep.

*

Steve saw the flash of color and movement out of the corner of his eye, and reached for his cell. “I think we got his attention,” he said, tucking the phone between his cheek and his shoulder. He slid his pencils back into their case, one at a time. “You coming up?”

“Be there in five,” Tony said, music blaring in the background. “Don't traumatize the kid.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I'm not going to- Just get up here,” he said, smiling.

He was closing his sketchpad when a familiar red mask popped up over the edge of the ledge. “Hi!” Spidey said, peering up at him. 

“Hello,” Steve said, walking down from Tony's landing platform, his steps brisk and measured. He crouched down, offering Spidey his hand. “Thanks for coming.”

“Okay!” Spidey took his hand and boosted himself up onto the roof. “I thought maybe that was for me. Spidey-signal, huh?” He sounded pleased, his shoulders back, his body bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Yeah, it's kind of a pain in the ass, we won't be doing that again,” Tony said, wandering out onto the roof. “Jarvis, kill the light show.” He grinned at Spidey as he wiped his hands on a rag. “How's it going, kid?”

Spider-Man shrugged. “Still breathing. What's up?” he asked.

“Here.” Tony held out a slim card. “Take this.”

Spidey took it, turning it over between his hands. “Hey, a Planet Comics gift card.” He paused. “This is weird. You know that, right? I mean, a gift card? I was happy to help and not die, so the weird 'I'm a rich guy, gotta tip the help' impulse is a bit much.” His head came up. “It's not even Christmas.”

“Shut up, kid,” Tony said. “Really. Just- Stop talking.” He crossed his arms, one eyebrow arched. “It's set to be refreshed on a regular basis. Go nuts. Buy stuff. Enjoy yourself.”

Spidey kept his head down for an instant. Then he straightened up, his shoulders going back, chin coming up. “Thanks,” he said, holding it out to Tony. “But really. I don't need it.”

“Yeah, it's more than that. Put your thumb on the planet on the logo,” Tony said. “And press down. Ready? Jarvis? Map it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Spider-Man glanced at them, and did as he was told. There was a second's pause, and then a quick flash of light, and the card seemed to shift in his hand. A moment later, he was holding s completely different looking card. “What is this?” he asked, holding it up.

Steve glanced at Tony, and Tony nodded, grinning. Steve turned back to Spidey. “As representatives of the Avengers, we'd like to offer you a space on the roster as a reserve member.”

“I'm not, I'm not a team guy,” Spider-Man said, but his fingers were clinging to the card hard enough to bend it. The Avengers logo was sharp and clear across the surface of the slim plastic. Spider-Man's masked face and identification were printed below it. 

“And you don't have to be,” Steve said, his voice quiet. “That card gives you an out. And a connection. If the city needs you, we'll use that to tell you. It's your choice how you use that information. And if you're in trouble, you use that. We will come for you.”

“It's a communicator,” Tony said. “It'll chirp and vibrate if we need to talk to you. It'll work with your gloves on and off, but to everyone other than you that touches it, it's just a gift card. If you're really in trouble? Break it. An emergency tracking signal will go out to us, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, SHIELD, everyone in range. This mess made it clear, we've got problems that need more than a couple of people to deal with. And as you've said, you know everyone.”

Spider-Man didn't move. Didn't say anything.

“Hey,” Tony said, bringing the boy's head up. Tony waited until he was looking, and he gave Spidey a half-smile. “A friend told me once. That you don't have to do this whole lone wolf act. You don't have to do this alone.” He leaned against Steve's side, and Steve didn't know if he was doing it deliberately or not, but he didn't care. He was just glad that Tony was doing it. “It's easier. If you have a safety net.”

“You can't-”

“Yeah, we can,” Tony said, cutting him off. “We can. Really. We can.”

“SHIELD will use this,” Spider-Man said, holding the card out to him. “I know you won't, but they will. They'll use this, and I don't-”

Steve took a breath. “SHIELD already knows who you are. You know that, right?”

Spidey shrugged, a half-hearted gesture. “I like to think they don't,” he said, and he sounded very young, very young and very resigned.

“None of our business,” Tony said. “So we don't know. But SHIELD has access to every piece of electronic data out there. They can trace you right down to your front porch, kid. They know who you are. They're leaving you alone for now, but they know who you are.”

Spidey flinched. “I have a family,” he said at last. “I have... People I need to protect. People I love.”

Tony pointed to the card. “And we will help you.”

“No matter what you choose now, we will help you,” Steve said. He held out his hand. “And you have a choice to make. We've chosen you to be the first reserve member of the Avengers. Confirmed by all members of the current team. Do you accept?”

There was another beat. A long, drawn out moment of silence. And then, almost too fast to see, Spider-Man's hand snapped out, his fingers catching and clutching at Steve's. His grip was firm and strong and Steve returned the handshake. “Yes,” he said, and his voice broke on the word. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Bravo, good, great, it's damn cold out here,” Tony said. “Use the card, kid.”

“I don't-”

“No, seriously, use the card. You're doing this, you can't manage an afterschool job and we all know it. Just... Be a kid for a little while longer. Read comics and get your girlfriend a Black Widow sweatshirt, mainline some Snickers bars and video games and be a goddamn kid.” He stabbed a finger in Spidey's direction. “And if you need us, use the rest of it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I'm going in. Call us if you need us.” With a wave, Tony wandered back towards the door to the living room. “Be nice to the kid, Cap.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Be nice to the kid,” Spidey repeated. He was still holding the gift card between his hands. “That would be nice. The kid would appreciate that.”

Steve looked at him, his chest aching. “I don't like this,” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle, trying not to let the stern note creep in. “I don't like you out there.” Spidey flinched, and Steve sighed. “Not because I don't think you're capable, but because you shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to fight these battles, you shouldn't have to stand up to these kinds of threats. We should be capable of protecting you. And right now, we can't. The fact that you're out there fighting? It means the world's failed you.”

Spidey shrugged. “Kids have been going to war for a long time, Cap.”

“A lot of things have been happening for a long time,” Steve told him. “And that doesn't make any of them right. It just means that we haven't found a way to fix them. Yet.” He smiled. “I want you to be there when we do find a fix. I want you to still be fighting with us. And for that? I need you to be safe now.”

“I'm stronger than I look,” Spidey said. “Tougher. Too.”

“I get that.” Steve leaned over and picked up his sketchpad. “I draw up here a lot,” he said, his tone conversational. “I like sitting up here and just-” He held up the pad. “Draw.” 

“Yeah, I've seen you,” Spidey said.

“But you never stopped to talk?”

Spider-Man was silent. “No,” he said at last, his voice cautious.

Steve smiled at him. “If you see me, you should stop,” he said. “You don't know. Maybe I'm lonely.”

“Do you get lonely?”

“Spidey? Everyone gets lonely.”

Spidey nodded. “Cap? Thanks.” He held up the card. “For this. And, well, for the rest of it.”

Picked up his pencil case. “If you wanted to,” he said, his voice light, a smile hovering around the edges of his lips, “you could do me a favor.”

“Sure! What do you need?”

Steve glanced over his shoulder to the windows into the living room. Tony was slumped on the couch, a tablet in his hands. Judging by the way his mouth was moving, he was arguing with someone, either Jarvis or someone on the phone. “Could you see if your comic shop has one of the sweatshirts in my size?”

Spidey followed his gaze. “Iron Man?” he asked.

“Iron Man,” Steve agreed.

“You know they make, like, Iron Man pajama pants, right? They make a lot of things, but those are really embarrassing,” Spidey said. “They're black silk, with this print of little Iron Man masks all over them, surrounded by flowers, captioned 'Love Machine.'”

Steve realized his mouth was hanging open. “No.”

“Oh, yeah.” Spidey's voice was full of laughter. “They're horrifying. I totally know where you can get a pair.”

“I'd appreciate a link, thank you.” 

Inside the Tower, Tony looked up, one eyebrow arching in Steve's direction. Steve gave him a little wave. To Spider-Man, he said, “Be careful. Stay safe. Call us if you need us.”

“I'll be home by midnight, I promise, and I won't get anyone pregnant,” Spidey said.

“If you need a safe sex lecture, I'm getting Tony,” Steve said, without missing a beat.

“Wow, that joke has backfired horribly, no, please, no, I'm begging you, I have issues enough without sex tips from Tony Stark, please. No.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.” Biting back a smile, Steve headed for the door. “Next week. Tuesday night. Eight PM. You busy?”

“Uh, no?”

“Good. Get over here, we're going to start combat training before you run up against someone who actually knows how to do more than throw a punch.”

“Actually, I think I-”

Steve glanced back. “Eight.”

Spidey's shoulders rose and fell. “Yeah. Okay. Tuesday.”

“Thank you.” Smiling to himself, Steve walked inside. 

“How'd it go?” Tony asked. He shifted his legs up. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the couch for both of them, even with his legs stretched out. Steve took that as a positive sign.

He took a seat and lifted Tony's legs to rest them in his lap. “Pretty good. I still think we should've just given him a college scholarship and sent him to Indiana.”

“What, a 'not a super hero, really, never fought evil in my life' scholarship?” Tony asked, smiling. He picked up his martini glass and took a sip. “I don't think he'd take it.”

“We could've worked something out,” Steve said. He accepted the swizzle stick of olives. “Thank you.”

“We did.” Tony yawned, snuggling down on the couch. “You cannot adopt every lone superhero we find, you know that, right?”

Steve shrugged and bit into an olive. “Don't see why not,” he said, grinning. “You've got enough rooms to-”

“No.”

“But-” Steve started, trying for innocence. 

“Absolutely not.” Tony reached up and caught the front of his shirt in one fisted hand. “You are a menace,” he said, dragging Steve in for a kiss.

Steve grinned against his mouth. “Just a couple of-” he whispered, and Tony went for his shirt.

“No..”

Laughing, Steve let Tony strip his shirt over his head. “We can negotiate.”

“Oh, really?”

“First point, we're not having sex in the living room.”

Tony grinned. “How about some heavy necking?”

“Tony-”

“Seriously. I think, I think we have a whole bunch to catch up on, I'd like to go driving again this time without a teenager in the car, that would be great-”

“Tony!” He felt his face flush. “You can't-”

“Is that a no?” Tony asked, his teeth flashing in a grin. 

“It's a-” Steve leaned in and kissed him, hot and a little too hard, and the scrape of Tony's teeth on his lower lip made him moan. “Bedroom.”

“Aye-aye, Cap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this as an attempt to force me to A. do action scenes (which I HATE) and B. work with a large group and expand the occupants of the Toasterverse.
> 
> Both of these go completely opposite my inclination in my writing. Seriously, if I were left to my own devices, all of my stories would be two people talking at each other and never moving.
> 
> Ever.
> 
> So this story was a struggle for me, weaving in disparate threads from one piece that was only beginning to form in my head (Hollow Your Bones) and a bunch that were done. It took far longer to finish than I would've liked, and several of the chapters were like dragging myself through molassas. I'm sorry it took so long. I appreciate everyone who continued to stick with this thing and encourage me.
> 
> I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Thank you.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Dating the Long Way Around](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106065) by [Hananobira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hananobira/pseuds/Hananobira)
  * [Cover for "Dating The Long Way Around" by scifigrl47](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8869210) by [RunawayMarbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayMarbles/pseuds/RunawayMarbles)




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